


Grave Robin

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Jason Todd, Blood and Injury, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd-centric, Memory Loss, Non-graphic descriptions of injuries, Past Character Death, a little bit of childhood trauma, but adopted by Poison Ivy this time, but recovery, joker-typical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: When Poison Ivy finds a kid buried alive in the Wayne Manor graveyard, she takes him home, just to help him recover a little bit. Much to her surprise, she's unearthed ex-Robin Jason Todd, four years after his death at the Joker's hands--and he doesn't remember anything from before he woke up on her couch. What do you do with an undead, half-traumatized amnesiac Robin? Adopt him, of course.An alternate universe where post-death Jason Todd isn't found by Talia Al Ghul, but is actually found and adopted by Poison Ivy, instead. Making an attempt at NaNoWriMo 2020, y'all
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Pamela Isley & Harleen Quinzel, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn
Comments: 66
Kudos: 314





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's just...imagine a world where Jason gets ANY post-death external love and support, you know? My boy deserves some love and attention, and in the Batman universe, the way you get those things is by adoption. Move over Batman, because Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn adopted your kid, and they aren't giving him back

_Something underground,_ whispered the Celastrus scandens. 

Poison Ivy stood outside Wayne Manor, summoning American Bittersweet vines to wrap around the pillars and outdoor sculptures. _What did you find?_ She coaxed. 

_Not-food,_ the vines responded. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Plants weren’t very smart, they tended to classify _everything_ as “food” or “not.” Whatever they’d found could be anything, as boring as a large rock or as exciting as a treasure chest. Considering that this was Bruce Wayne’s house, it had to be something good. 

_Dig it up. Show me,_ she commanded. The vines tugged at her sleeves. They directed her around the side of the house, to a small, fenced in garden. Ivy could see a few weathered gravestones sticking up out of the ground. The Bittersweet had erupted out of the earth, a mass of leaves and twisting stems, winding together into the vine structure, which wound around a small, dirty corpse. Ivy blinked. A _corpse._

_Oh god,_ Ivy thought. _Batman has a dead kid in his yard._

She took a step closer. It looked like a fifteen, sixteen-year old boy, covered in dirt and sticky red blood. Ivy was about to ask the vines to put him back (gently, please), when all of a sudden, the kid coughed and writhed weakly in the vines holding him up. Ivy screamed, in the few moments it took her to realize she wasn’t dealing with a zombie. She shook her head and brushed herself off, and gestured to the plants to put him down.

“You…gotta go back...f’r my mom,” the boy stuttered out, coughing up clods of mud and dirt. He was covered in gunk, the blood making dirt and debris stick to his thin arms. Ivy knelt beside him, and he scrabbled uselessly, without the strength to reach for her. She took his hand, and saw that it was scratched up and bruised… _like he’d been trying to claw his way back above ground._

_Batman has a kid buried alive in his yard,_ Ivy thought. She felt sick to her stomach. She had no idea what to do. “Are you okay? What happened to you?” She cursed, internally. _Obviously he isn’t okay._

“I think I need t’ go to th’ hospit’l,” the kid slurred. His eyes closed, and he went limp and loose in her arms. Ivy looked up at Wayne Manor, half-covered in vines (Harley had asked for a distraction to give her another few minutes to escape the scene of a crime). Ivy looked down at the dead (undead?) kid in her arms, bloody and battered, but somehow still alive. He looked like a little weed someone had tried (and failed) to scrub out of some concrete. She couldn’t just leave him there. But she couldn’t take him to a hospital, either, not unless she wanted Batman to find out that she’d stolen a kid out of his creepy home-graveyard. Maybe Batman wouldn’t realize it was _his_ undead graveyard kid? Or worse, what if Batman _knew_ he’d buried him alive? Ivy didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t have many options, and she needed to do _something_ with him. He needed a doctor. She texted Harley that she was sorry, but the anti-Batman distraction was cancelled, and Ivy was having an emergency, so could Harley _please_ stop whatever she was doing and come home? Ivy lifted the boy off the ground (and he weighed much less than she expected, which was a relief at first, then terrifying to contemplate) and started the long walk back to her house. The vines wouldn’t be able to keeping growing after she got too far out of range, but she gave them some encouragement and asked them to keep it up as long as they could. The kid slept like the dead as she carried him. He didn’t move, he didn’t cough, he hardly _breathed._ She didn’t know what she would do if he died.

If you’re friends with Harley Quinn, you develop a knack for knowing when you’re getting into trouble. A sane person uses this ability to stay out of trouble, and to avoid getting involved in something that wasn’t any of their business. Ivy looked down at the kid. He had a white streak in his hair, barely visible under all the blood and grime. This was going to be trouble, she was sure. But she didn’t put him down, and she didn’t abandon him at a hospital. She took him home, put him on the couch, and wondered if her expired CPR certification would be useful here.

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_Come home,_ Ivy texted.

_babe i’m literally almost done_

_what emergency tho_

_bats?_

_send pics_

_I found a kid,_ Ivy sent.

_babe you adopted???_

_im not ready 2 b a mom_

_what do u mean FOUND_

_I didn’t adopt,_ Ivy typed angrily.

_He was buried alive at Wayne Manor._

_He needs a doctor._

_Please?_

_fine_

_b right there_

_unless batman arrests me bc SOMEone didnt finish destroying wayne manor_

_Just hurry,_ Ivy sent.

Ivy looked at the kid, who was still unconscious on the couch. She checked his pulse, and she was relieved to discover he still had one, but his limp hand in hers gave her the creeps. She remembered something she’d seen in a movie, and she held a small mirror up to his nose. After a few moments of pure fear, she saw two little fog streaks appear. He was breathing. Good. But she wasn’t sure what else she could do until Harley showed up. Harley would know what to do. Harley might have a better sense of whether this was a “first aid kit” thing or a “call 911” thing. Ivy desperately hoped it wasn’t a “call 911” thing.

He was getting blood all over her couch. She probably should have put down a towel or something, but the couch was old, anyway. Should she try to clean him up? Was that a bad idea? Maybe she shouldn’t have moved him so much, and she’d only made things worse. The best thing to do right now would be to go out to the greenhouse and collect something medical, but she didn’t want to leave the him alone. What if he woke up and needed something? What if he started seizing, or vomiting or something? What if he stopped breathing? She bit her nails, and she paced, and she texted Harley reminders to get home _soon,_ and she watched the kid. He continued to breathe. He didn’t wake up.

By the time Harley busted through the door, half-covered in some kind of green slime, Ivy was at the end of her wits.

“I said it was an emergency!” Ivy glared.

“I know, I know,” Harley sighed. She dumped her bag and a couple of layers of slime-covered clothing haphazardly on the floor. “But I was already done setting the charges, and it’s irresponsible to leave bombs out like that, y’know?” She wiped off her hands on her pant legs, then looked up at Ivy. Her face went soft. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry. You’ve got the orange ones again…I didn’t know. I woulda broken more traffic laws on my way over.”

Ivy reached up one hand to the top of her head, and sure enough, she could feel little clusters of thin flowers and long, stiff leaves tangled up in her hair. She pulled one out, and looked at the orange flower. _Asclepias tuberosa,_ butterfly weed. She ripped the rest of them out, and kicked the pile under the rug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy sniffed, still angry.

“I used to think the orange ones were pretty, Red,” Harley shook her head sadly as she walked over to the couch. “But you only grow ‘em when you’re really upset. What happened?”

“I do _not,_ ” Ivy grumbled. “I’m in control of my powers.”

“Sure you are, babe. Now let’s see what— _holy crap that’s a dead kid!_ Why did you drag a dead kid back here?!?!” Harley shrieked as she looked down at the couch.

“He’s not dead,” Ivy said, quickly checking his pulse again. It was hard to find, but it was there. “He’s just, um…he’s like this. What do we do?”

“Okay, I’m gonna go wash my hands, to start,” Harley tied back her hair and leaned a little closer. “Can you try and clean him up a little with a damp cloth? Be careful, though. Try to avoid anything that looks deep or broken… I’ll get some antiseptic, too.”

Ivy nodded and grabbed a washcloth from the kitchen. She waited for the sink water to warm just slightly, then brought it back to the couch. She could hear Harley rummaging around in the other room while she started wiping at the boy’s face. Ivy wondered where all the slime had come from. She’d have to remember to ask, she thought vaguely as she worked on cleaning up the kid. His clothes were torn to shreds, but she couldn’t find any large cuts, and he wasn’t soft anywhere like he’d broken something. Most of the blood seemed to be coming from his hands, where he was cut up and nearly missing fingernails. Ivy shuddered. It really did look like he’d been awake underground, trying to claw his way out for who know _how_ long. But his head was mostly scars, rather than actual injuries. He was covered in scars, peppered mostly over his shoulders and face. There was a particularly large one running jagged over his nose, but it looked older, and she was able to clean it up without too much trouble. It was going to take more than a washcloth to clean up his hair, though. She could see a little bit more of his white streak, but he was still matted and sticky.

Harley finally returned in a short sleeve shirt, carrying a lunchbox of assorted medical equipment. “Where’s the damage on him?”

“He seems mostly fine,” Ivy said. “Other than the…buried alive stuff.”

Harley winced. “Let me take a look.” Ivy stepped away and Harley kneeled next to the couch. She felt the kid’s pulse, listened to his breathing with a stethoscope, and felt around his neck. “Oh, ew…there’s something…” Harley lifted the boy’s head just slightly, revealing a red stain oozing over the pillow beneath him. “That seems pretty raw. Let me check his ribs, then let’s flip him over.”

“Okay,” Ivy said, trying not to fidget as she watched Harley work. Harley seemed satisfied that flipping him over wouldn’t kill him, so between the two of them, they turned him over on his side. Harley held out her hand, and Ivy passed over the washcloth. Harley cleaned the back of the head as best she could, using a cotton ball and some q-tips as she examined more closely. After a few long, terrible minutes, Harley breathed a sigh of relief. “More scar tissue,” she said. “There’s a lot back here, but I don’t see any open wounds. And nothing that should be bleeding like that…I wonder where it’s coming from.”

“I don’t…you don’t think… _Batman_ did this to him, right?” Ivy coughed awkwardly.

“What? Bats would never,” Harley rolled her eyes. “The guy _adopts_ kids, he doesn’t kill them. Remember that time he opened that school in crime alley? I mean, that was Bruce Wayne—I forget, are we allowed to talk about his secret identity or not?”

“It’s fine, he’s unconscious, he won’t know,” Ivy sighed. “I know Batman usually doesn’t touch kids, I just…he was _alive_ down there, when my plants found him. And look at his hands…he was awake, he was trying to get out. How long do you think he was…?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Harley soothed, patting Ivy on the leg. "At most, it was like a day. Otherwise he’d have suffocated to death.”

“That…that doesn’t really help,” Ivy frowned. “What do you think happened to him?”

“Well, Batman, the “world’s greatest detective,” thought he was dead, and I guess he buried him,” Harley shrugged. She turned the kid so he was lying flat on his back, flipping the pillow blood-side-down for a bit of a cleaner surface. “Hey, wait a minute…” she squinted at the kid, and turned her head side to side, taking a closer look at him.

“Why would Batman bury a kid in his yard?” Ivy frowned. “Use your billions of dollars, have a _real_ funeral in a _real_ cemetery, rich boy.”

“Ohmigosh,” Harley gasped. “Ivy, it’s because _this kid is a robin._ ”

“What?” Ivy looked down at the unconscious boy. “No way.”

“Yes way!” Harley said. “This is the second Robin! It’s gotta be.”

“The second Robin is still alive,” Ivy pointed out. “He was patrolling with Batman _yesterday.”_ Her face went pale. “Did Robin _die_ yesterday? How did we not know?”

“No, no, the current Robin is the third one,” Harley said. “Batman got him…um, three or four years ago.”

“Then what happened to the second one?” Ivy asked.

“That woulda been…hmm. I’m pretty sure I remember Joker saying something about the second one being dead, but four years ago is _before_ I started my life of crime,” Harley shrugged. “I wouldn’t have noticed a Robin-Replacement, I didn’t care about that stuff before.”

“Okay, wait, the first one was the acrobatic one, and he wears blue now, right?” Ivy counted on her fingers. “If the current one is really the third one, then there _is_ a missing second one out there somewhere, but how do we know this is him? Maybe the second one is wearing blue in some other city.”

“Look at him!” Harley gestured wildly. “Black hair, he’s probably got blue eyes under there, small kid—Bats woulda taken one look and scooped him right up!”

_“You_ look at him,” Ivy shrugged. “He’s got a white streak in his hair, he’s covered in scars…not to sound cynical, but Batman usually adopts prettier ones.”

“You might be right…I don’t think I remember a white streak on _any_ Robin,” Harley frowned. “But come on, if he’s not a Robin, why was he buried in Batman’s yard?”

“If the second one died four years ago, he’d be dead by suffocation by now, even if they _did_ bury him alive,” Ivy shivered. “Harl, I love you, but there’s no _way_ this is a Robin. He’s probably some ordinary kid who got caught in the crossfire of a super-villain fight, and Batman’s horrible guilt made him opt for a private backyard burial over a public ceremony.”

“I’m looking it up,” Harley said, standing up. “Lemme get my laptop.”

“Okay,” Ivy shrugged. She looked down at the unconscious boy. He couldn’t have been much older than sixteen, so if he _was_ a Robin four years ago, he would have been buried at age 12, which was _much_ younger than seemed appropriate to force a kid to join you as a crimefighting partner. Maybe he _did_ die four years ago, and he hadn’t aged since then? But if that were true, how did he come back to life? Did _she_ do something when she dug him up? Everything about this was so weird. Again, she got the impression she was looking at a weed—Maybe a dandelion flower, half-dead from some idiot’s attempts to kill it, but still holding on with a few gnarled roots and battered leaves. She had the urge to water him. That was silly. She laughed. Then she wanted to kick herself, because of _course_ he’d want some water. She retrieved a cup from the kitchen, but as soon as she had it, she looked down at him and realized that he couldn’t drink it until he woke up. She awkwardly set the cup down on the coffee table.

“Found it!” Harley yelled from the other room.

“Bring it in here!” Ivy yelled back.

Harley bounced in, laptop open in her hands. “Look, see? This article says Batman is on his third sidekick, has been for three years.”

“I don’t care about the current one, we need to know if this is the second one. Did you you find any pictures of the second one?” Ivy asked.

“Not yet,” Harley admitted. “Gimme a minute.”

“Look for stories about Bruce Wayne,” Ivy suggested, crossing her arms. “He doesn’t just give them uniforms, he adopts.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking!” Harley said. She scrolled through various clickbait articles about Bruce Wayne’s private life. “There’s not a lot of pictures of the second kid he adopted…it says here that “Jason Todd” is an orphan from Crime Alley, and that unlike Dick, he didn’t go to parties or events with Bruce as much. Oh! Here’s a picture.” Harley held up a blurry photo of Bruce Wayne standing next to a small boy with black hair.

“I can’t tell if that’s him,” Ivy squinted, “but that kid doesn’t have a white streak.”

“No, it’s definitely him, I’m sure of it!” Harley frowned. “Something happened to give him scars, maybe it dyed his hair, too.”

“What are you saying?” Ivy looked down at the kid, then back at Harley. “You think we should just turn him over to Batman and be done with him?”

“Hey, if that’s a Batkid, we don’t want Batman thinking we kidnapped him,” Harley said.

“Even if that’s a Batkid, _Batman buried him alive,_ ” Ivy said. “Whoever he is, I doubt Batman’s looking for him.”

“Let’s just wait until he wakes up and _ask_ him who he is,” Harley said. “Then _he_ can decide if he goes back to Batman, and you’ll know I was _right.”_ She smiled, smugly. “Should we make him some food? What do kids eat? Twinkies, right?”

That was obviously a ploy to convince Ivy to make dinner, Ivy realized, but it was better than sitting here doing nothing, waiting for the kid to wake up. “You watch him, I’ll cook something,” Ivy sighed.

“Mac and cheese, if you please,” Harley beamed, kissing Ivy on the cheek. “You’re a doll.”

“I know,” Ivy smiled.

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The kid didn’t wake up in time to eat dinner while it was hot, and he didn’t wake up during the night, either, though Ivy had stayed awake watching him long after Harley had given up and gone to sleep.

The morning came, and Ivy rubbed her tired eyes as Harley sleepily made her way out of the bedroom.

“What’re you doing in here?” Harley yawned. “You gotta water your plants.”

“What if he wakes up,” Ivy blinked.

“I’ll watch him, I promise,” Harley yawned again. “Were you up all night?”

“He could have waken up,” Ivy said.

“Did he?” Harley asked.

“No,” Ivy said.

“Okay, go get some sun, I’ll watch him,” Harley said. “Go. Shoo.”

Ivy considered this. She _did_ feel awful, and some sunshine would do her good. And it _was_ later than she usually got up to water her plants, and some of them were on a strict water regime. It wouldn’t hurt just to check on them, then come right back to the couch.

“Fine,” Ivy said. “But only if you check on the patient, Doctor Quinzel,” she continued as she stood and made her way to the greenhouse door.

“Coffee first,” Harley groaned.

Ivy stepped into the greenhouse and immediately felt just a little bit better, despite the lack of sleep. The warm sunlight felt good on her skin, and the soft soil between her toes was much better than the shitty carpet in the living room. She filled up her watering can, and moved slowly about the room, following her usual routine. Smaller plants first, then big ones, then working with the flowers if they weren’t already open. She got lost in her tasks, concentrating, so when Harley screamed, she startled so badly she dropped the watering can.

“What is it?” Ivy ran back into the living room. “What happened? Is he dead?”

“He’s a meta!” Harley screeched, pointing. Ivy looked down at the couch. The kid had shifted slightly, but he was still sleeping? Unconscious? and he looked totally normal.

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “What happened, Harley?” she asked, exasperated.

“Look at this!” Harley crouched next to the boy and pointed at his hands.

“They look normal to me,” Ivy frowned. “What, did he start glowing or something?”

“He _healed,_ ” Ivy said. “You saw what he looked like yesterday. He was almost missing fingernails. I would have bandaged him if we could have cleaned him up better, and if I was sure it wasn’t going to trap any dirt…but look! He’s totally fine!”

“You’re overtired, Harl,” Ivy sighed. “Everyone heals from injuries, that doesn’t mean he’s a meta.”

“I _know_ what injury-recovery looks like, babe,” Harley scowled. “He healed at an _inhuman_ rate. Don’t you get it? That’s how he’s alive! If he’s got healing powers, he could have been underground I don’t know _how_ long, healing from suffocation over and over again… He could have gotten those scars two _days_ ago and we wouldn’t know, because they already healed over.”

“Wait, then he’s not a Robin,” Ivy said. “Batman doesn’t adopt metas.”

“Touche,” Harley said. “Batman doesn’t adopt metas _to our knowledge_. But maybe Batman didn’t know? Once he wakes up, we can ask him what kind of powers he’s got, and—“

“Just tell me when he wakes up, then. I’m going back out to the greenhouse,” Ivy said, but at that exact moment, the kid let out a raspy cough and shifted just sightly on the couch. Ivy dropped to her knees next to him. “Is he okay? What do we do?”

“Look, based on his injuries, and the condition you found him in, I’d tell you he might never wake up, even with serious medical help, but if he’s still healing, he could be awake any second,” Harley shrugged. Ivy didn’t even look up at her. “So I guess we’re watching him like this until he does,” Harley sighed. “I’m gonna run out and grab some breakfast. Want anything?”

Ivy made a few noncommittal noises, not taking her eyes off the kid.

“I’ll get you an egg muffin sandwich, too,” Harley said, putting on her shoes. “Everyone loves a good egg muffin sandwich.”

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While Harley was gone, the kid began moving a little bit more, shifting weakly in his sleep, and making a few pained grunts every so often. He was waking up, some combination of “a little bit sleepy” and “back from the dead.” Ivy managed to get him to drink a little bit of room-temperature water, and by the time Harley came back with the breakfast muffins, the kid was sitting blearily mostly-upright (leaned against the back of the couch) and holding the cup in his own two hands. Ivy talked to him, offered him food, offered him blankets, offered him anything she could think of, but he didn’t really respond. He just blinked at her (with blue eyes) and swayed slightly.

“Okay, that looks like a concussion,” Harley said, once she’d examined him with a flashlight. “And it doesn’t seem to be healing the way his hands did…maybe we should have tried harder to keep him awake.”

“Mm…mmm fnn,” the kid coughed. Ivy and Harley politely ignored the way a little bit of dirt came out of his mouth and nose. Ivy handed him another cup of water, and he drank the whole thing, coughed a few more times, and shook his head rapidly. “M fine,” he said, in a raspy, gravelly voice.

“You’re _not_ fine, you’re half-dead and you’re—“ Ivy started to scold, but Harley cut her off.

“Hey, there we go! Healing powers, I told you so. If he says he’s fine, he might be just about there,” Harley laughed. “Does anything hurt? Do you need anything?”

“I asked that already,” Ivy growled.

“Water,” the boy gasped, and Ivy handed over another cup. The kid drank all of it, so fast that some went down the wrong pipe and he started coughing. Harley pounded him on the back a few times until he managed to stop coughing. “M starving,” the boy said.

Ivy reached into Harley’s bag and handed over the egg sandwiches.

“Hey, one of those was for me!” Harley said. She looked at the way the kid stared at the sandwich with hungry, sunken eyes, and she relented. “I’ll get another. You can have it.”

“Thanks,” the kid mumbled, having already downed a few mouthfuls of food. There was silence for a little while, as he ate and Harley and Ivy had a frantic eye-contact conversation ( _what do we do? I don’t know, what do YOU think we should do? I don’t KNOW, what do YOU—)_ , then the kid went a little green around the edges and promptly threw up on the carpet.

“Okay, no more sandwich for you,” Harley said, taking the remaining unwrapped sandwich away from him. The kid held his stomach and coughed a few more times, eyes watery with tears. Ivy helped him take a few sips of water once he’d calmed a little.

Ivy looked at the floor. She was going to need a serious stain-remover to clean that up. It smelled awful. “Can you stand?” Ivy asked, quiet and gentle. “Let’s move you to the kitchen table, get away from this, okay?”

The kid nodded, and though it took both Harley and Ivy’s help, they managed to seat him at the kitchen table, and he managed to stay sitting upright. He drank another glass of water. Harley kicked some dirt over the vomit to dry it up a little, while Ivy sat at the table and tried not to stare at the boy.

“Who are you?” he asked, once he could talk without coughing or dry-heaving.

“My name is Pamela,” Ivy said. “You can call me Ivy. That’s Harley over there.”

“Harley is fine,” Harley smiled and waved. “Who’re you?”

The kid looked at her, then looked down at his hands, and sniffled. His face got all red. He looked about to burst into tears. “I…I don’t know,” he hiccuped. “I can’t remember…”

“Hey, it’s okay, shh, shhhh,” Ivy said, moving closer to him and hugging him. She gently stroked his dirty, matted hair with one hand as he buried his face in her shoulder. “It’s okay…don’t worry about it, everything is gonna be okay.”

“Brain damage!” Harley snapped her fingers. “The whole back of his head is covered in scars…he’s got brain damage! He doesn’t _know_ who he is!”

“I got that, thank you,” Ivy hissed angrily.

“I mean…oh no, brain damage,” Harley finished awkwardly. “But don’t worry! Based on how the rest of this morning is going, it’ll heal. In an hour or two, he’ll be fine,” Harley shrugged. “But we should ask him some questions, try to figure out what he _can_ remember.”

“I can’t…I don’t remember anything,” the kid sniffled, his voice muffled by Ivy’s shoulder. “I just…I woke up here, and…and…” he choked on the words.

“It’ll all be okay,” Ivy soothed. She took a step back and took his shoulders in her hands, making eye contact. “Let’s get you something that won’t upset your stomach…saltines, maybe, but you’ll have to eat slowly.”

“But I’m so hungry,” the kid moaned, cramming both fists into his stomach miserably.

“That’s from the healing!” Harley perked up. “Wait…I got something for that…” she bolted into the bedroom, and returned with a handful of protein bars. “Speedsters burn energy faster than other types of metas, so they all carry snacks all the time. I know this guy who _swears_ by this brand, he says it’s easier to swallow. And healers burn energy too, and you’ve really been wearing yourself out with that recovery rate—“ she looked down at the kid’s red, confused face. “You’re right, food now, science later,” Harley finished, dumping the bars on the table.

The kid unwrapped one, and began chewing slowly. He looked up at the them, and flushed awkwardly. He shifted in the chair, trying to turn away. Ivy and Harley realized what was happening, and began putting on an awkward performance of not-staring-at-him.

“So, um, I might go back out and get another egg sandwich or two,” Harley said, after a weird pause. “You two have fun, okay? Don’t do any science without me!”

“Harley, don’t go,” Ivy hissed, grabbing her hand. “I don’t know how to deal with this! What if I need your help?”

“There’s nothing to do! He’s magic! He’s healing right now, that’s why he’s so hungry,” Harley said. She leaned closer and whispered: “Look at him, he’s scared stiff. The fewer people here to intimidate him, the better…for now, at least. Just be nice to him, and try and help him get some sleep, it might help.”

“Okay,” Ivy said, reluctantly letting Harley go. “But don’t go far. And keep your phone on, because if something goes wrong, I want you back here in the minutes or _less.”_

“I promise, boss,” Harley smiled. She kissed Ivy on the cheek, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door. It slammed behind her with a loud, sudden noise that made the kid jump. Ivy pretended to wash dishes as he finished eating the protein bar.

“I’ve got a bucket if you think you’re going to throw up again,” Ivy said. “And, um. There’s the bathroom,” she pointed. “We’ve got soap and towels, if you want to shower or something?”

The kid nodded, mutely. She led him to the bathroom and showed him how to work the shower handle, and promised him that they wouldn’t run out of hot water, so he could use as much as he wanted. She told him to yell if he needed anything, and he nodded again, and closed the door. She listened to the water run, and bit her lip nervously. She cleaned up the couch and the floor (and between the two of them, her living room was never going to be the same again), and she listened for him to say he needed something, but he didn’t call. She tried not to imagine him slipping in the shower and busting his head open again. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so on edge. She picked orange butterfly-weed flowers out of her hair, and shoved them in the compost bin.

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The shower turned off. There was a long silence.

“Do you need anything?” Ivy asked from the other side of the door.

“Um. Clothes,” came the response.

“Right,” Ivy said, and slapped herself in the forehead. “One second.” She ran into the bedroom and sifted through drawers until she found a flannel, some pants, and a belt—she wasn’t sure it would fit, but it was the smallest stuff she could find.

“I’ve got something,” Ivy said. “It’s not much, but it’s clean.” There was no response. “I’m gonna leave it on the other side of the door,” she said, and set the little bundle down.

Then she went to the kitchen and put together some food choices. Plain spaghetti, strawberry yogurt, saltines, basically anything she could find in the cabinets that she was pretty sure wouldn’t induce another vomiting spell. The bathroom door opened, then closed, then opened again, and out walked the kid.

He looked a little bit less lost, less dizzy, and a lot less nauseous, which was good. The clothes fit him _really_ loosely, like he was just a skeleton. The white streak in his hair was more visible now that it was clean, and it wasn’t just in the roots, it swiped gracefully down to the tip of his messy bangs. The scars were a little more noticeable without the encrusting layer of dirt. The biggest one cut across his nose, but another one sliced over his right eyebrow, and she knew there were lighter marks that would only be visible up close.

“Hungry?” Ivy asked.

“Starving,” the kid sighed, and he sat at the table. He hesitated for a long moment before deciding on plain, cold spaghetti, and he ate it with his fingers.

“How are you feeling?” Ivy asked.

“Horrible,” the kid said. At least he looked a little better than he had that morning.

“Do you…remember anything?” Ivy asked. “Your name, where you’re from…?”

“No,” the boy shook his head. “Nothing.” He glared at her between mouthfuls of food. “I’m trying, okay?”

“Take your time,” Ivy held up her hands in surrender and took a few steps away.

“Where did Harley go?” the boy asked.

“She said she was getting some food, but she’s been gone a while,” Ivy bit her lip. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Whatever,” the kid grumbled. He frowned at his pasta. “What are you going to do with me?”

“Well,” Ivy winced. “We’ll see if you get your memories back. You might have somebody you care about, somebody who desperately wants you back.”

“Maybe,” the kid shrugged.

“Somebody like…the Batman,” Ivy said carefully.

“Why would he care about me?” the kid looked up suspiciously. “Did I do something?”

“No! Um, not that we know of,” Ivy amended. “We just thought, maybe…” she looked down at him. He was scowling at her, but from the look in his eyes, he was _scared._ Ivy wasn’t sure what to say.

“So I’m staying here until you figure out what to do with me,” the kid grumbled and went back to his food.

_For someone with no memories, he’s sure got trust issues,_ Ivy thought. “You don’t have to stay. I mean, you probably should until you recover a little more. And I want you to stay. I mean, I don’t want you to not stay. I mean…well—”

“I don’t wanna be a bother,” the kid said quietly. “I’m just in the way. I got blood all over your house, and—“

“You’re an invited guest, stay as long as you like,” Ivy said. “Trust me, that was not the most blood that couch has ever seen. There was this one time when my friend Selina—“

The front door slammed open and Harley stormed in. “YOU’RE A ROBIN!” Harley yelled happily, pointing at the kid. Ivy, used to Harley’s entrances by now, didn’t react. The boy, on the other hand, yelped and flinched away at the sound.

“Welcome back, Harl,” Ivy said. “Did you get another egg sandwich?”

“I got something _better_ , and also, um, worse, definitely a little worse,” Harley said. She took off her backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out a loose stack of papers. “I got these from a guy who used to be one of Joker’s henchmen, and y’know, lived. Take a look! But, um, it’s not pretty,” Harley said, shoving a file folder into Ivy’s hands.

Ivy flipped through some images while Harley dumped the rest of the stack on the kitchen table. It was a series of photos of a bloodied, beaten Robin. It was horrifying. Ivy could hardly stand to look at it. But it was unmistakably the kid sitting at the table.

“Can I see?” the kid asked.

“No,” Ivy said, at the same time Harley said “Sure, why not?”

“Lemme see,” the kid said, and with a surprisingly speed, snatched the photos out of Ivy’s hands. He flipped through it a few times. Ivy and Harley watched to see how he’d react, but his facial expression didn’t change much. The only sign he was processing what he saw was that he kept absentmindedly rubbing at the scar on his nose.

“So, hi there, Jason Todd,” Harley said. “Welcome to our home, also, you’re definitely a Robin.”

“No way,” Jason said. He frowned. He rubbed the scar on his nose as he looked down at a photo of himself with a bloody gash in the same spot. “I don’t remember this.”

“You might never remember it,” Harley shrugged. “But you might remember it in an hour. I’d have guessed the kind of memory loss you’ve got is permanent, but I woulda guessed death is permanent, too.”

“I’m not dead,” Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photos. “If that’s me…how am I alive?”

“I have no idea,” Harley said. “But we should probably figure that out, right?” She looked at Ivy, who nodded, tightly. Harley tuned back to Jason. “Did you ever have healing powers _before_ you died?”

“I don’t remember,” Jason said, but it was more of a gasp than a sentence. He took quick, shallow breaths, in and out. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“He’s hyperventilating,” Ivy said. She grabbed a paper bag and shoved it at Jason, who managed to breathe into it a few times. “Harley…” Ivy sighed. “Think about what you say _before_ you say it, next time? There’s gotta be a better way to put that.”

“I’m…a zombie?” Jason looked up from the bag.

“Kid, I have no idea _what_ you are,” Harley said. “Alive, though. That’s nice, isn’t it? Alive is good.”

“I guess…now we know he’s a Robin…” Ivy said slowly. She looked at Jason. “I guess…you probably should go back to Batman,” she finished lamely.

“No,” Jason shook his head furiously. “I don’t remember being a Robin, I don’t remember Batman…I want to stay _here._ Um, if that’s okay,” he flushed and looked away.

“It’s more than okay,” Harley smiled, and hugged him.

“I…Batman is going to _kill_ us if he finds out we’ve got a Robin,” Ivy said.

“You’re going to turn me in?” Jason looked up at her with big, sad eyes. Harley made a matching facial expression. Two irresistible pouting faces staring up at her. Ivy was helpless to resist.

“…I guess it would make more sense if we waited to see if you get your memories back before we do anything,” Ivy conceded.

“Thank you,” Jason said, hugging her around the waist.

Ivy glared at Harley and mouthed _if Batman kills us, I’ll kill you._

Harley just grinned and gave two thumbs up.

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For what felt like the millionth time that day, Ivy googled “parenting advice, emergency.” She’d tried several variations, from “how to raise a child” to “how to stop a kid from vomiting” to “how long do kids usually sleep.” She groaned and rubbed her eyes, staring blankly at the computer screen.

Somehow, she’d managed to completely upset her daily routine without really upsetting anything. Shouldn’t things feel different? Shouldn’t every moment with a brain-damaged Robin be a new, exciting development? But she didn’t _feel_ different, she just felt…normal, but with the addition of “worries about Jason” on top of everything else she usually worried about. After she’d promised him he could stay, he’d eaten half the items she’d set out, then slept for a few hours, then woke up and ate some more, then fell asleep again. Meanwhile, Harley was continuing her doodling and plans for the War on Joker, just as she’d done every day for a week _before_ they’d brought an undead Robin into their home. Ivy, on the other hand, had mostly ignored her daily routine, and spent the day cooking, watching Jason, and googling advice to help her with Jason.

_how to tell if someone is a zombie for real_ , she typed. She’d heard something about a zombie outbreak not long ago. Was that in Central City? She couldn’t remember.

“Hey, you should take a break,” Harley said, coming up from behind her and massaging her shoulders.

“I will in a little bit,” Ivy said.

“You’re not meant for computers, babe. You type like a grandma, one finger at a time. It’s hard to watch. Go do some gardening, you haven’t been in the greenhouse since Jason woke up.”

“I’m fine,” Ivy shrugged her off. “This is more important.”

“I’ll research the undead Robin, you go outside!” Harley pulled Ivy’s chair away from her, plonking her down on the floor.

“Fine,” Ivy grumbled. She looked up at Harley’s smiling face, and she couldn’t stay angry for long. Harley was right, she _did_ need a break.

“Go! Shoo!” Harley giggled as she helped Ivy up and shoved her towards the greenhouse.

Ivy relaxed just a little as she stepped inside. She hadn’t even checked on her latest project today. She was working on a study of a new plant she’d discovered. It was so new, she hadn’t even named it yet. She’d found a few of them popping up in Gotham Park, and then she’d seen it again all around the city, in the weirdest places. She’d brought a few samples home, but she hadn’t yet figured out how to make them _grow._ And they wouldn’t talk to her, either. What she needed was some time to really study them, get to know them. She was desperate to figure out where they’d come from.

She’d set up a table for her experiments with the samples. It was near one of the windows. She’d made different plots of soil, she had different light regimes, she had some fertilizer (yucky, but sometimes necessary), and her microscope was all set to her left, with slides ready to be loaded. She absorbed herself in examining one of her newer plant samples. Since she’d last checked it, it had grown a few new flower buds, and the flowers that already existed were almost _dripping_ with a sappy nectar. Her bees didn’t seem to have any preference for or against the new plant, but there was something wrong with that nectar, and she just couldn’t figure it out. She hesitated to touch it, even—she wasn’t sure what it would do to her.

“What are you doing?”

Ivy _jumped,_ startled by the small voice behind her. She turned and saw Jason, still wearing the oversized flannel, standing behind her. “Oh, it’s just you. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Jason said. He pulled up one of the wooden stools and sat down on it. “But what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to study this new type of plant,” Ivy said. “I’ve never seen it before, and as far as I can tell, no one’s ever described it before.” She picked up one of the non-flowering plants and handed it to Jason. He frowned at it.

“Looks normal to me. I see these all the time, what’s so special about them?” He set it back down, and wiped his hands on his pants.

“You’ve got no memories,” Ivy frowned. “You can’t possibly remember seeing _any_ kind of flowers. And even if you did, these are new, I’ve only started seeing them within the last few weeks.”

“I dunno, I just feel like I’ve seen them before,” Jason shrugged.

“Do you remember where?” Ivy asked.

“No,” Jason shook his head. “They’re kinda pretty, I guess.”

The plant had thin leaves, and a wide flower set close to the ground. It almost looked like a daisy, if a daisy was shaped more like a clover. The flowers were yellow and white, and sometimes one plant had both colors. As Ivy watched, a bee landed on the dripping nectar-y one, then happily buzzed away, seemingly none the worse for wear after the encounter.

“I can’t figure out how to grow them,” Ivy admitted. “I collected all these samples outside the greenhouse. My powers don’t work on them as easily, but I don’t know why.”

“Powers?” Jason asked. “Like the flowers you grow in your hair?”

“I don’t do that,” Ivy said, brushing a few leaves out of her hair.

“Woah,” Jason perked up, excited. “Can I see? What can you do?”

“Hmm…” Ivy looked around, then decided on a fun little trick. A _Corylus americana_ reached down one of its branches and took the sample Jason had been holding off the table, placing it back amongst the others.

“Wow,” Jason whispered, eyes wide. “How do you do that?”

“Well,” Ivy admitted, “I got poisoned a few times, now I can do a lot of things.”

“Did you die?” Jason asked. “Am I gonna have powers because _I_ died?”

“I didn’t die,” Ivy said. “There was…well…a lot of things happened. I don’t know if you’re going to get powers.”

“Probably not, though,” Jason kicked the ground angrily. “I read all of Harley’s stupid files. There wasn’t any radioactive waste, there was no magic, there wasn’t _anything._ Nobody gets powers from a crowbar.”

“Harley seems to think you’ve picked up some healing powers,” Ivy said. She looked down at Jason, who had tucked his hands into his armpits and was looking away. “Are you doing okay?” Ivy asked, a little more gently.

“Yeah,” Jason shrugged. “I don’t remember it happening. I mean, I guess it’s me? It looks like me, and the pictures match my scars…but I really don’t remember it. I’m just kind of…” he trailed off.

“What?” Ivy asked.

“I mean,” Jason bit his lip. “If that’s really me, I really _was_ a Robin, you know? And I worked with Batman. I guess I’m just kind of mad because…the story in the files stops after the Joker beats Robin to death. I wonder what Batman did after, you know? Even if that kid in the pictures isn’t me…the Joker still killed a Robin. Why didn’t Batman ever take revenge on him? How come the Joker is still alive, you know?” Jason let out the last of that in a rush of air, and flushed with embarrassment as he finished. “I dunno. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s a fair question,” Ivy said slowly. “You’d have to ask Batman.”

“I don’t want to talk to Batman,” Jason said, pulling his knees up on the stool with him. “I…I don’t remember working with him, all I really know about him is the stuff that I guess everyone knows…and he’s scary.”

“Batman is a little scary, sometimes,” Ivy admitted. “Harley thinks he’s just a big softie, though.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s okay,” Jason said quietly. “Can I watch you work?”

“Of course,” Ivy said. “And if you have any questions, just ask. I have a doctorate in plant biology, but it’s been so long since anyone asked me about my work. Usually people only care about the “love potion” stuff.”

“What love potion stuff?” Jason asked.

“Well,” Ivy bit her lip awkwardly. “Never mind. As I was saying, that’s the _least_ of what I can do. Let me show you what I’ve been working on…”


	2. Chapter 2

Jason couldn’t remember much of anything. Everything before waking up on Ivy’s couch just…wasn’t there. He hated it. He could _feel_ that something was missing, and it was right on the tip of his tongue, it was right at the edges of his awareness…but it wasn’t coming to him.

Part of him hoped the memories wouldn’t come back. When Ivy handed him that clump of dirt, he felt something weird and fuzzy in the back of his mind, and he almost threw up right then. He recognized how it felt against his fingertips. It was warm, soft, just a little bit damp…he remembered how it felt in his _lungs._ He’d set it down and wiped his hands on his pants, but his skin didn’t stop crawling. When Ivy asked if he wanted to help with her work, he’d said yes, but he had to go to the bathroom first. He washed his hands four times in a row before the feeling went away.

He couldn’t even find the memory, that was the worst part of it. It was like a bad dream that slips away before you can remember why you shouldn’t be scared of it. The harder he tried to grab it, the more he focused on what he was feeling, the more it just…slipped away. He remembered waking up, here, at Ivy’s place. He remembered throwing up, he remembered taking a shower and watching dirt and blood ( _his_ blood) swirl down the drain, he remembered looking at that stupid file folder and the pictures…something had happened to him, and he didn’t remember it. It was like looking at a picture your stalker takes when you don’t know they’re there.

He couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. And he was cold, and it was warmer in the greenhouse anyway, so he went back out.

“Are you feeling okay? Did you throw up again?” Ivy asked.

“I’m fine,” Jason said, and it wasn’t a lie, because “fine” means “normal,” and he felt the same way he had ever since he woke up.

“I can show you how to re-plant the samples,” Ivy said. “I need to move them all over there.” She pointed at a little patch of cleared earth.

“Do you have gloves or something?” Jason asked in what he thought was a perfectly normal voice.

“What was that?” Ivy looked up. She hadn’t heard him.

Jason swallowed. His throat felt dry and scratchy. He coughed, and tried again. “Do you have any gloves? For gardening. Or something.”

“Oh, of course,” Ivy said. “Come over here.” She took Jason to a series of shelves, and rummaged around in a bin near the floor. “Try these on.”

Jason put on the gloves. They were dry and cracked, old enough that they were beginning to wear out. But they were clean, so far as he could tell. And it felt better than touching the dirt with his bare hands.

“Thank you,” Jason said, thickly.

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” Ivy said, giving him a weird look. “If you need some more sleep, or anything, I’d totally understand. You’re still healing.”

“I’m fine,” Jason said. And it was true. No aches, no pains, no broken bones…whatever scratches he’d had vanished, and the bruises too. Maybe he really _was_ a healer, which would only be the world’s _lamest_ superpower.

“I mean it,” Ivy said. “If you’re not feeling up to it—“

“I said I’m _fine,_ ” Jason growled. “I’m not hungry, I’m not tired, and there’s nothing else to do other than read the files about me again, so…” He trailed off. Ivy put her hand on his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay,” Ivy said. “I understand. This is the place for it…Harley and I both know what you’re going through.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“Harley and I are what the press likes to call “rogues,” Ivy said.

“I know,” Jason frowned. “You’re supervillains.”

“We’re not—“ Ivy sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath. “Harley doesn’t have powers, so if anyone’s a supervillain, it would be me, but I’m not, I’m just…”

“A criminal?” Jason supplied.

“An eco-terrorist,” Ivy said. “What I mean to say is, Harley and I…we’ve both had our share of pain and suffering. You make it through, you know, you just take it one day at a time, and you—“

“Yeah, but did you die?” Jason snapped. “Because the file says that I _died._ What are you supposed to do after you _die?”_

“The file Harley found isn’t the whole story,” Ivy said quietly. “You said so yourself. We have no idea what happened after you were _assumed_ dead.”

“The file says it was four years ago,” Jason said, kicking at the ground. “I was…I don’t really remember it…but I was underground somewhere for _four years,”_ Jason said. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“I was hurt, in my past. I learned to garden to take my mind off it, keep my hands busy,” Ivy said. “Harley never really took to it, but if you want…you could give it a try.”

The unfortunate bit of it all was that Jason really had nothing better to do. He _wanted_ to give it a try.

“I won’t be any good at it,” Jason said. “You should start me off with some easier plants.”

“I’ll teach you,” Ivy smiled.

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“—and then you want to gently massage the roots,” Ivy continued. “You want to try and loosen them up, and remove some of the old dirt so they can grab onto the new soil better.”

Jason fumbled with his plant, trying to be as gentle as he could. He was mangling it, he just _knew_ it. He could tell by the look on her face.

“You could give it a try without the gloves?” Ivy suggested.

“No,” Jason shook his head firmly.

“Okay,” Ivy stood up, which Jason recognized as code for “you’re done gardening for the day, you’re messing up all my plants.”

“Whatever,” Jason frowned. He stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m no good at this, anyway. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll buy some better gloves,” Ivy frowned. “Those don’t really fit you, and I’m sure there’s something more comfortable out there.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“I’ve been meaning to get some more equipment anyway,” Ivy said. “You can come with me, if you’d like.”

“I knew it! I _knew_ we were adopting him!” Harley yelled.

“We’re not adopting him,” Ivy said.

“You’re buying him gardening tools!” Harley said, stepping over to the table and gesturing at Jason. “When you did that for _me,_ you were asking me to move in with you!”

Jason felt…weird. Like there was something tight and constricting in his chest, making it hard to breath.

“Jason?” Ivy said. She gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t listen to Harley, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We’re not forcing you to stay here, you can leave anytime you want.”

Was she asking him to leave? Jason couldn’t get a handle on what was happening.

“Obviously we’re not forcing him to stay,” Harley rolled her eyes. “Does a bird force a baby bird to leave the nest?”

“Yes,” Ivy frowned. “That’s exactly what they do.”

“All I’m saying is, we’ve got a new face around the lair for a while!” Harley beamed. They both looked at him.

“I need some water,” Jason gasped, and he pushed past Harley into the house, into the kitchen. He stood over the sink and tried not to throw up. The best plan would be to steal whatever he could and get out of here, then at least he’d be living on his own terms. Only he had nowhere to go, no memories, and stealing from supervillains seemed like a surefire way to get killed. Again. He dry-heaved into the sink, then drank as much water as he could stomach.

He had to think this through. They were rogues, and he was supposed to be a Robin. That meant they thought he was valuable. That probably meant he was safe. Unless they _did_ decide to turn him over to Batman.

Jason shuddered. Everyone knew to be afraid of the Batman. If you wanted to live, you knew to stay inside after the sun went down. There were nights in Crime Alley where Jason hadn’t had anywhere to stay, and he’d…he’d…

He struggled with the memory, trying to grab it, trying to force it to stay, trying to force it to make sense. Crime Alley…the name felt intimate and familiar, the way the dirt had felt intimate and familiar under his fingernails. But he couldn’t place it, couldn’t remember if he’d lived there, where it was…

He groaned and put his head down on the counter.

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“He needs a room,” Harley was thinking out loud. “He can take mine! I’ll sleep with you.”

“He doesn’t need a room,” Ivy mumbled. “He’s going to get his memory back, and then he’s going back to Batman, who has a million rooms.”

“You’re right,” Harley said. “But where is he going to sleep until he gets his memory back? The _couch?”_

Ivy contemplated this. “He needs a room,” she agreed. “How long would it take you to clean out yours?”

“Babe, it’s already _done,_ ” Harley rolled her eyes. “I told you last week, I had to reorganize and move some of my stuff out so I could find the stuff I needed for the War.”

“Darling, do you remember what I said to you the first time you told me you were having a “War on Joker?” Ivy made air quotes.

“Yep!” Harley smiled. “You said that no matter how many times I said it, it would never catch on!”

“Yes, but I also said I didn’t want you dragging any of that _here,_ ” Ivy said. “I stand by what I said, I’ll help you as much as I can by distracting Batman and the cops, but I don’t want my house set on fire, I don’t want the greenhouse destroyed, and I don’t want to wake up Jokerized one morning.”

“You won’t,” Harley said. “Besides, you got dosed last year and nothing happened, so—“

“What?” Ivy blinked. “Harley—“

“Nothing happened though!” Harley squeaked. “Remember when we went out to that one club, and there was that explosion, and the next day they found all those people with Joker smiles?”

“Vaguely,” Ivy rubbed her forehead.

“Yeah, that was Joker gas,” Harley rubbed the back of her neck. “But I’ve got antidote in my system, and you’re immune! Apparently.”

“I wish you would have given me an allergy test before _exposing me to poison,_ ” Ivy glared. “Harley, I love you, but I mean it. You can’t bring any of that Joker stuff back here. Not right now, not while we’ve got Jason.”

“I don’t plan on it!” Harley held up her hands in mock-surrender. “That’s why I moved most of my stuff into storage, anyway—that way the storage bin will be targeted instead of this place!”

“I don’t want _anything_ targeted,” Ivy sighed. “Harley…”

“I know,” Harley fidgeted. “You’re worried about me. But I have to do this. It’s him or me. Whoever wins gets the city, and I plan on winning.”

“If you stopped blowing up his hideouts, maybe he’d stop attacking yours,” Ivy suggested.

“He struck first,” Harley shook her head and frowned. “If I stop now, he’ll kill me. The only way to win is to _fight_ for it.”

“Just…be careful, I guess,” Ivy said, hugging her. “And I _mean_ it— _don’t_ bring it home with you.”

“I’m gonna go help Jason set up his room,” Harley said.

“It’s not _his_ room, it’s the _guest_ room,” Ivy said. “He’s only staying until he gets his memory back.”

“You’re the boss!” Harley winked.

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“All right, come on, kid,” Harley tapped Jason on the shoulder. “Get up. You’re getting an upgrade—tonight, you sleep in my old room, or as Ivy likes to call it, “the guest room.”

“I thought I sleep on the couch,” Jason mumbled. He was sitting face-down at the kitchen counter.

“You can’t, it’s movie night tonight,” Harley picked him up off the counter. “We need to pick out some sheets, then you can get yourself set up in there while I scrub down the couch cushions so our guests don’t get bloody.”

“Movie night?” Jason looked up.

“It’s kind of a thing we do,” Harley said. “You can come, you just can’t sleep on the couch. Because we need to sit there. To watch the movie.”

“Where’s the guest room?” Jason asked.

“Let me take you on a tour!” Harley beamed. “What’s mine is yours. Actually, this is…well, what’s Ivy’s is yours. Ours, what’s _ours_ is yours.”

Harley led Jason around Ivy’s place, pointing out two other bathrooms, the guest room, Ivy’s room, a gazebo, and another giant room with windows.

“What do you call a fancy room like this?” Harley frowned. “It’s all windows, it’s supposed to be for tea or something fancy…a sun room?”

“I don’t know,” Jason shrugged. It was bright. The sunlight refracted through the glass and felt a million times brighter. He squinted, trying to see.

“Yeah, Ivy likes it in here,” Harley shrugged. “She says the sunlight is good for her. And you can see almost half of Gotham Park, too!”

“I can’t see anything,” Jason squinted, covering his eyes with one hand.

“Here, try these!” Harley fished around in her pockets until she found a pair of hot pink sunglasses. “UV protective too, that’s what the sticker says.”

Jason put them on and blinked. It was a beautiful view. In the distance, the tall buildings and skyscrapers of downtown Gotham, and one of its bridges was just barely in sight to the left. In the foreground, Gotham Park: trees, flowers, greenery…Ivy’s building was set on a little hill, and there were people walking around below.

“Can they see us?” Jason asked.

“One way glass,” Harley smiled. “Totally private. Ivy goes bananas for this place.”

Jason took off the sunglasses. “It’s too bright,” he frowned. “Here. You can have these back.”

“Oh, you keep them,” Harley shoved them back. “They suit you!”

“Oh. Um, thanks,” Jason said. “…I don’t have any pockets.”

“Shove ‘em up on your forehead, then,” Harley said. “Like this.” She propped the sunglasses up on Jason’s forehead. “Oh, no…kid…you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason sniffed. “I’m fine.” His face felt warm and uncomfortable, but he wasn’t crying. Yet.

“What’s wrong?” Harley said. “Was it me? I’m so sorry—“

“It’s not you,” Jason said. “I just…you said I’m moving into the guest room but I don’t have anything to move, these aren’t my clothes and these aren’t my sunglasses and I don’t have anything, and my brain doesn’t even work, and I—“ Jason blubbered.

“Hey, hey, those sunglasses are yours, now!” Harley said. “They’re a gift, I promise. Keep them! And your brain is _great!”_

“It doesn’t work,” Jason said, looking away. “I don’t…I can’t remember stuff.”

“Sure you can,” Harley said, crouching next to him. “You can remember everything after you woke up, right?”

“Yeah,” Jason sniffed.

“There’s two major types of memory loss,” Harley said. “Retrograde amnesia, which is where you can’t remember stuff from before the thing that made you lose the memories, and anterograde amnesia, which is when you can’t remember stuff that happens _after_ the event when you lose your memories. Have you seen Memento?”

“Is that a movie?” Jason frowned. “I can’t remember. I can’t remember anything—“

“Never mind,” Harley shook her head. “It’s a bad example, anyway. All you need to know is, your skull is closed, and you’re making and keeping new memories. How bad could it possibly be?”

“Bad,” Jason looked at her.

“I’ve got an idea,” Harley said. “Let’s do what we set out to do and get you some sheets for the guest bed, then we could do some tests and see how much memory you’ve got. How does that sound?”

“I don’t have _any_ memory,” Jason scowled. “What would be the point?”

“What’s a dog?” Harley asked.

“What?” Jason said. “Um, you know. Small, furry. You keep them as pets—“

“Were you born knowing what a dog is?” Harley asked. “No! Nobody is. And you speak English, which you had to learn when you were little, so you _do_ know things, and you _do_ remember some stuff, okay?”

“Um. Okay,” Jason said, startled.

“Come on,” Harley guided Jason out of the sun room and into the hall, to a closet door. “This is the linen closet, pick out anything you like. There’s extra pillows, too, so grab as many as you want.”

Jason shoved his sunglasses up on his forehead and opened the door.

“Don’t be toxic and manly about it, but we don’t have a lot of color choices,” Harley winced.

Jason looked at the assortment of pink, green, and flowery sheets. He touched a few of them, then decided on one that felt like t-shirt material, because it was the softest. Harley helped him carry several pillows and the sheets to the guest room.

“Go ahead and change the sheets,” Harley said. “If you need anything, I’ll be scrubbing blood out of the couch. Movie night at 7:30, okay?”

“I don’t have a watch,” Jason said.

“You’ll know it when Selina gets here,” Harley shrugged. “We’re watching Moana. Have you seen it before?”

“I…don’t remember,” Jason repeated, staring at her like she was dumb.

“Oh, right,” Harley smacked herself in the forehead. “You’ll love it. Great movie. Instant classic. Anyway, come get me when you’re done and we’ll do some memory tests if you want. Also, you have free range of the house, and now you know where everything is, so feel free to explore. If you find books or magazines or something, you don’t have to ask, you can just borrow them. That’s what I do,” Harley said. “Also, there is an unsolved rubick’s cube somewhere in this house. If you find it, please don’t give it back to me until it’s solved.”

“Um…okay,” Jason said.

“And protein bars in the kitchen!” Harley said. “In case you get hungry, because I know healers need extra calories—“

“I’m not a healer,” Jason said.

“Whatever you say,” Harley smiled, and patted him on the head.

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Selina Kyle didn’t even finish walking through the door before she knew something was wrong. “It smells like oranges in here,” she said. She took a deep breath, and gagged. “It _really_ smells like oranges in here. How much blood _was_ there?”

“S!” Harley waved from the kitchen. “There isn’t blood _anymore,_ that’s the whole point of the orange-smelling cleaning spray. It’s got enzymes.”

“Oh god,” Selina feigned gagging again. “It was on the couch, wasn’t it. You’ve put down the injury blanket.”

“It’s not an injury blanket,” Harley said. “Do you want anything? Popcorn is almost ready.”

“I _like_ the injury blanket,” Ivy said. “It helps me pretend the house is clean.”

“Maybe it’s just for decoration!” Harley said. “That doesn’t prove anyone was injured.”

“Orange smell, injury blanket—which one of you got into trouble?” Selina groaned. “Harley, I keep telling you, if you need help with the whole War thing, I’ve got you covered.”

“As a matter of fact, it wasn’t me this time,” Harley grinned. “Ivy? You want to tell our guest about our _other_ guest?”

Ivy opened her mouth, looked at Selina, then closed it again. Harley laughed.

“Look, right now I don’t care what it is, just tell me if it’s a threat,” Selina sighed.

“It’s _not_ a threat, I promise,” Ivy blurted. “But, um…”

“Is the popcorn ready yet?” Jason wandered into the room, wearing a blanket over his head and wrapped around him like a burrito.

Selina hissed and took a step backwards. “Jason? You’re alive?”

Jason looked up at Selina, then took a few hasty steps backwards and looked at Ivy.“I’m going back to the guest room.”

“Wait, popcorn’s gonna be ready _so_ soon!” Harley said. “Just give me another two minutes.”

“Jason…how…how long…” Selina glared at Ivy and Harley. “Why do you have a Robin? HOW do you have a Robin? Jason died, four years ago, and here he is _alive?_ In your _house?_ ” She looked Jason up and down. “You look like you haven’t aged a day…you should be almost 20 years old, or something. Are you a clone?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” Jason pulled the blanket a little tighter around him.

“I found him buried alive at Wayne Manor,” Ivy said. “I couldn’t _leave_ him there, Selina—“

“So you adopted him? Why didn’t you give him back to Batman?” Selina growled.

“Because I told her not to,” Jason said quietly. “I don’t _want_ to get handed over to Batman.”

“And he’s also got memory loss, just figured I should mention that,” Harley piped up. “He can’t remember anything before we rescued him, so…yeah.”

“You don’t remember…anything?” Selina asked. “You spent, what, three years as Robin? And you can’t remember any of it.”

“I don’t even remember where I _live,_ ” Jason shook his head. He looked paler than he did when he came in. “I didn’t remember my _name._ ”

“I’m still pretty sure you’ve got some healing powers, and it’ll all come back,” Harley said to him.

“I’m leaving,” Selina said. She put her hand on the door handle and inched away. “I’m not…I’m not doing this. Jason is alive, and he’s _here,_ and Batman doesn’t even _know?_ I’m not—“

“Wait, Selina—“ Harley started.

Ivy solved the problem by sealing the door with some _Acer saccharinum._ “Selina—“

“There is nothing you can say that will stop me from going to Batman about this,” Selina turned back to face them and crossed her arms.

“Please?” Harley said.

“No,” Selina said.

“Pretty please?” Harley pouted.

“No,” Selina frowned.

“Pretty please with a cherry on—“

“Where did Jason go?” Ivy asked, panicked.

“No,” Selina started, then caught herself. “What?”

The door to the greenhouse slammed. Ivy turned on her heel and ran for it.

“Um…” Selina said.

“Come on!” Harley grabbed her hand and dragged her to the door.

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They didn’t want him. That was fine, if they didn’t want him, that was going to be fine, Jason would be able to handle it, and he’d even understand, it wasn’t _their_ fault he’d needed help, but now he was all better, and they didn’t feel the need to keep him around, and that was _fine._

What _wouldn’t_ be fine was that they wanted to give him to Batman. Jason didn’t even think, he’d just pulled the blanket tighter around himself and ran for it. Better to live on the streets than risk whatever mercy _Batman_ could muster. And at least he’d have a blanket. He felt a little bit guilty for stealing it, but he knew Harley would understand.

There wasn’t another door in the greenhouse. There was no way out, unless he wanted to go back inside, which he _wouldn’t_. The walls were glass, he just needed something to break them with…there were tools in the box with the gloves, but the whole place was a mess of plants, more of a maze than anything else, and he couldn’t find what he was looking for. He tripped and hit the ground _hard,_ and he could hear them behind him now, they’d followed him in here, and they _knew_ there was no way out, and he was getting claustrophobic just thinking about that. He looked up and saw a tiny crawlspace between a raised planter and the floor, and he squeezed himself into it, tucking the blanket in behind him. They would look for him for a little while, then they would get bored and go to bed, and once they were asleep he would sneak back out and escape out the front door. Maybe he could even steal some food—no, it wouldn’t be worth it. Ivy already gave him so much just by giving him a place to sleep for a few days, he couldn’t steal from her. Which meant he’d have to leave the blanket, too. He cuddled it a little closer in the little crawlspace. He’d just hold it for a little while longer, then he’d be able to leave it behind once he was ready to go.

He had no idea where he would go. He didn’t have anywhere else to be, no friends or connections that he could remember, no secret places in Gotham where he could hide out. That was going to be a problem, but it was better than staying here.

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“Jason?” Ivy called. “Selina doesn’t mean it.” She kept one ear open for broken glass, hoping that Jason would at least stay in the greenhouse.

“I can _promise_ you that I do,” Selina said.

“—And even if she _does,_ we won’t let anything happen, okay?” Ivy said. “We promised you could stay until you got your memories back, and I _keep_ my promises.”

“What happened, anyway?” Selina whispered to Harley. “How is he alive? Why doesn’t he have any memories? Are you sure he isn’t a clone?”

“We’re pretty sure,” Harley shrugged. “And as for the “alive” stuff, we don’t know, but, come on. He’s got brain damage, of course he’s got memory issues.”

“You should give him back to Batman,” Selina said. “He’d…he’d be able to help, he could do _something.”_

“Kid doesn’t wanna go,” Harley said. “He’s _terrified_ of Batman, and until he gets his memories back, he’s probably gonna stay that way. We figured, what’s the harm in letting him stay here until he _wants_ to go back?”

“And you promised…” Selina sighed. “Just don’t get too attached. You might think you picked up a stray, but that’s a house-cat, and he’s got someone coming for him.”

“Jason!” Ivy called again. She wheeled on the other two. “Stop it! Look, go start the movie, I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“Come on,” Harley pulled on Selina’s arm. “Popcorn is probably ready by now!”

“It’s probably _burnt_ by now,” Selina grumbled, but she allowed herself to be led away, and she seemed content not to rat them out to Batman, so Ivy breathed a sigh of relief.

She crouched, and splayed out her palm in the soil. _Talk to me,_ she said. _Where did he go?_

There wasn’t much of a response for a little while, just some gentle rustling. It was nighttime, and the plants were sleepy.

She closed her eyes, and focused on imagining how Jason would look to a plant, how small and thin he’d felt when she carried him home, and the shape of his gangly teenage legs. _Shaped like that_ , she said. _Where?_

The _Waldsteinia fragarioides_ spoke up. She stood, and made her way to the appropriate plant bed. There was some disturbance in the dirt. Jason had tripped, fallen, and dragged some of her soil under the planter. She ducked down low, trying to get a better look. “Jason? Are you okay?”

She couldn’t really see him, but the darkness shifted away from her, and she knew it was him. She sat on the ground, carefully keeping her pose loose and open, and her eyes pointed away. “I see you’re getting familiar with the greenhouse. How do you like the strawberries?”

“…Strawberries?” came a small voice, slightly muffled. He had the blanket under there, Ivy realized.

“Yeah,” Ivy said. “This isn’t the season for them, but soon enough they’ll grow back in. I could make a few now, if you want some.”

“No,” Jason mumbled. “…too much already.”

“Too much what?” Ivy asked.

“Stuff,” Jason said. “Sunglasses, and…” there was a moment’s pause, then the blanket shoved out of the space and landed in her lap. “Sorry.”

“Hey, keep it,” Ivy smiled. “It’s no big deal, I’ve got way too many.”

“No,” Jason said, more insistently. “You can’t… Stop it. I’m already too much trouble.”

“You’re not any trouble,” Ivy said. “You—“

“You don’t have to give me to Batman,” Jason said quietly. “I’ll leave. Tonight, even—“

“What? Where would you even go?” Ivy asked. There was silence from under the planter. Ivy sighed, and shifted so she was sitting with her legs crossed. “Harley and I made you a promise,” she said. “We won’t turn you over to Batman, and we won’t let Selina do that, either.”

“You can’t,” Jason said.

“I think I know how to keep my promises,” Ivy laughed softly.

“No, I mean…” Jason poked his head and the tips of his fingers out from under the planter. He had dirt on his nose and in his hair. He was frowning. “I mean, you can’t. You can’t stop Batman, _no one_ can.”

“I…if it makes you feel any better, the only reason he would be coming here would be to protect you,” Ivy said, softly. “If he was breaking down our doors, he would do it to rescue you from _me,_ not to drag you off to Arkham.”

“Not Arkham,” Jason shook his head. “There’s a school near Crime Alley—it’s not really a school, it’s pretty much a crime ring—but if you mess up, even if you’re a kid, Batman…he…” Jason shook his head, frowning, searching for the right words.

Ivy remembered something about a school Bruce Wayne set up in Crime Alley. Was it still open? _Was_ it some kind of crime ring? She’d have to look it up. But that wasn’t important right now. “Batman wouldn’t hurt you, even if you’re _not_ a Robin,” Ivy said. “He doesn’t hurt kids.”

Jason tucked himself back under the planter.

“Batman doesn’t know you’re here, and you can stay as long as you want, longer, even,” Ivy said.

“Okay,” Jason said.

“…You want to come out?” Ivy asked.

“No. Yes…No,” Jason said.

“Okay. Do you mind if I stay with you until you’re feeling better?” Ivy asked.

“Yes,” Jason said. “Go inside. I’m ruining movie night—“

“Don’t worry about movie night,” Ivy smiled. “Do you want the blanket back?”

“…No,” Jason said. “It’s warm under here.”

“The roots are trapping heat,” Ivy said. “I’ve always said, that’s why they call it a plant _bed…_ because it’s so comfortable?”

Silence from under the planter.

“Get it?” Ivy asked, leaning down.

In a flurry of motion, Jason shoved himself out from under the planter, wiping himself off and trying to pat off the dirt. “I need a shower.”

“You can still come to movie night first if you want, the couch has seen worse than this,” Ivy laughed.

“No, I…” Jason shook his head furiously, and scratched at his skin with his nails. “I need a shower. _Now._ ”

“Okay then,” Ivy said. She picked up the blanket. “Go for it. You know where the towels are, let me know if you need anything—“

Jason bolted back into the house. Ivy sighed, and followed him in.

“Is the kid okay?” Harley asked. “He ran for the bathroom, is he gonna be sick again?”

“He just said he needed a shower,” Ivy shrugged. “I guess we can start the movie without him.”

“Man,” Harley shook her head. “I’d want one, too. There’s no good hiding spots in the greenhouse, he’d have to be half-underground for us not to spot him, and if it were me, that would be too much like…you know.”

It took Ivy a moment to process what Harley meant, then she winced, thinking about it.

“Shall we watch Moana?” Selina asked from the couch. Harley looked at Ivy, who looked at the bathroom door. She could hear soft sounds of water running.

“Yeah,” Ivy said. “Okay.”

They piled onto the couch, Harley half in Ivy’s lap (even though there was plenty of space). They finished off the popcorn before they even made it ten minutes into the movie, but by then Jason was out of the shower, and Harley helped him make another batch before he joined them on the couch.

“That was a good movie,” Jason said after they were done. “I liked it.”

“I picked that one!” Harley beamed. “It’s Selina’s turn next week, then Ivy’s…wait! _You_ should pick one for next week!”

Jason just shrugged, and flushed under an awkward smile.

“I’ll see y’all later,” Selina said, putting on her sweater. She crouched next to Jason and put her hands on his shoulders. “Jason, if you ever need _anything,_ contact me.” She handed him a business card with a phone number, address, and a small logo of a cat wearing a diamond necklace.

“I don’t have a phone,” Jason said.

“I’ll steal ya one tomorrow,” Harley said.

“Batman is going to ki—“ Selina started, then looked down at Jason and cut herself off. “Good luck with your memories, kiddo.”

“Thanks?” Jason frowned. Selina left.

“All right, let’s go to bed,” Harley clapped her hands. “I’m exhausted, and I’ve got a busy day planned for tomorrow—“

“We know, you’re stealing a phone for Jason,” Ivy sighed.

“As a matter of fact, I’m rigging another Joker hideout to explode,” Harley pouted. “I have _other_ errands, you know.”

“Can I come?” Jason asked.

“No,” Ivy said, at the exact same time Harley said “Sure, why not?”

Jason looked back and forth between them.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” Ivy groaned and rubbed her forehead.

“Definitely, babe,” Harley said, but she winked at Jason.

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“Ready to go?” Harley asked.

“Uh, I guess so,” Jason looked down at himself. Flannel, jeans, an artfully ripped pink t-shirt that _clearly_ once belonged to Harley, and some over-sized shoes they’d found in a closet.

“Hmm,” Harley frowned, looking him over. “Do you have anything more fireproof?”

Jason looked at her.

“Right,” she snapped her fingers. “We’ll get you a better jacket _before_ we get to the hideout. And a phone, I guess.”

“Is Ivy mad that I’m going with you?” Jason asked.

“Naw, not really,” Harley ruffled his hair. “She’s lived with _me_ long enough, she knows that sometimes a person just has to set something on fire, and nothing can get in their way.”

“Yeah!” Jason perked up just a little, then frowned. “I don’t think it counts as revenge if you can’t remember the thing you’re getting revenge for, though.”

“You need new shoes, too,” Harley frowned. “Those are _way_ too big, no good for running. Wait, what were you saying?”

“Revenge,” Jason explained. “The Joker, uh, killed me, I guess, so blowing up his stuff is revenge, kind of. What did he do to you?”

“So much stuff, kid,” Harley sighed. “But I like to think of this as preventative as opposed to revenge—you know, making sure he won’t mess with me _again_ as opposed to punishing him for messing with me before.”

“Huh,” Jason contemplated this. “Okay. I can get behind that.”

“Could you jump a few times?” Harley asked.

Jason did so, and flopped out of the shoes.

“We _need_ to get you into some new shoes,” Harley frowned. “Can you walk in those until we get downtown?”

“Sure,” Jason shrugged.

“Okay, then I think we’re ready,” Harley said.

“Be careful, okay?” Ivy emerged from the greenhouse, a few orange flowers visible in her hair.

“I’m _always_ careful,” Harley said. “Where do we keep the reusable bags?”

“Next to the door,” Ivy sighed.

“Thanks babe!” Harley beamed. She kissed Ivy on the cheek, then bounced back to the front door and slammed it open. “Ready to face the world, kid?”

Jason swallowed thickly, and smiled as bravely as he could manage. “Let’s go.”

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The outside was worse than Jason remembered it. It wasn’t quite that he could remember a specific time he’d ever been outside before, it was just that his brain was supplying words like _cold_ and _dark_ and _patrol_ and this was more like _ridiculously hot_ and _way too bright_ and… he didn’t really _have_ a word for what it was like to be out with Harley. She was loud and exciting and happy, and she talked to _everybody,_ even if she didn’t know their names.

They maneuvered their way out of Gotham Park and down a bunch of sidewalks. Jason had to keep tucking his heel back into one of the shoes. They made their way into Gotham Square, which was somehow both huge and open while also fenced in by the skyscrapers. It was lights and billboards and statues. It was crowded with people, walking in every direction, talking and yelling and—

“You okay?” Harley elbowed him in the side. “Your mouth is hanging open.”

“I guess…I just…” Jason gestured at the _wildness_ of it all. It was a good thing he didn’t run away. He would have gotten lost immediately, and probably _trampled._

“Drink it in, kid,” Harley laughed. “That’s why I’m fighting this War on Joker…why would I want to live anywhere but here?”

She led Jason to a storefront and opened the door with a grand gesture. “Shoes first,” she said.

Somehow, finding shoes was the most uncomfortable thing Jason had ever done (that he could remember, that is). He tried on at least ten different pairs, getting more flustered and uncomfortable as the clerk helping them got more and more bored.

“I’m sorry,” Harley looked apologetic. “We’ll just keep looking ourselves, you should help somebody else.”

The clerk sniffed and walked away. Jason flushed and put his head in his hands.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re a natural!” Harley whispered, giving him two (subtle) thumbs up. “Great work!”

“Huh?” Jason frowned.

“You got rid of her!” Harley rolled her eyes.

“Um, wasn’t she helping us?” Jason asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Harley waved a hand. “Did you find a pair that fits?”

“Not yet,” Jason groaned. “They all feel weird, or they don’t fit right, or my heel keeps popping out…I’m sorry.”

“Keep looking, we got plenty of time,” Harley said. “And the shoes are the most important thing we’re getting you today, so they should be _perfect.”_

Jason tried on _seven_ more pairs until he found the right ones. They were black, with red striping up and down. They had “arch support” or something, whatever it was made them feel all right.

“How do you like them?” Harley asked.

“I think these are the ones,” Jason said. “But they’re kind of expensive.” There were _way_ too many numbers on the price tag, and he had no way to pay Harley back for them.

“Can you walk in them?” Harley asked.

“Yep,” Jason said, taking slow circles around the bench.

“Can you run in them?” Harley asked.

“Yep,” Jason said, jumping up and down a few times.

“Great,” Harley said, grabbing his hand. “Run!” She yanked, and pulled him along, out of the store and down the block. The door alarm beeped for a few moments before turning itself off. The clerk didn’t even follow them a whole block, but they kept running until they were further away. Harley pulled them into an alley where they stopped to catch their breath.

“Whew!” Harley laughed. “You’ve got legs, kid! You really _are_ a natural at this stuff.”

“Thanks?” Jason said, not sure what to do with that information.

“New shoes!” Harley beamed. “Now we can get everything else you need, too.”

“We’re stealing all of it?” Jason asked.

“Obviously,” Harley said, giving him a look. “But don’t worry about it—that’s why we came down here, instead of the small business that were a little bit closer to Ivy’s house. You think that company is gonna suffer because they lost a pair of over-priced shoes? You think Wayne Tech is gonna miss the phone we’re gonna take?”

“I guess not,” Jason shrugged. He smiled. He was still feeling the adrenaline rush of their escape. “Where do we go next?”

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“Shoes, jacket, phone,” Harley ticked off items on her fingers. “We’ll get groceries on the way back…am I forgetting anything? Did you need anything else?”

“I can’t think of anything,” Jason shrugged. He put his hands in the pocket of his new, semi-fire-resistant jacket.

“A mask,” Harley smacked herself in the forehead. “Duh! But there’s probably something good at Joker’s place, we’ll grab something before we blow it up.”

“Why do I need a mask?” Jason asked.

“It’s just what you do,” Harley shrugged. “If you don’t get caught, the police have a little more trouble identifying you, stuff like that. And it looks cool.”

Jason doubted something like a domino mask would actually do any good at protecting his identity, but it might be nice. Maybe it _would_ look cool.

Harley led him past City Hall and down a maze of side streets, until they arrived at the warehouse. “This is the spot,” Harley said. “Joker’s had this place for two years, and we’re gonna blow it up.”

“What’s Ivy’s phone number?” Jason asked.

Harley repeated it by rote all in a rushed sing-song tone, then caught herself. “Why?” Harley asked.

“Look,” Jason pointed. It was a plant with thin leaves, and wide yellow and white flowers set close to the ground. It had a distinctive daisy-clover shape.

“Hey, is that the weird one she’s been studying?” Harley asked. She looked around. “There’s clumps of it all over here.”

Jason snapped a photo and texted it to Ivy. Then he quickly typed _this is jason by the way._

W _here is this???_ came the response.

_joker warehouse,_ Jason sent.

_they’re everywhere_

_told you i’ve seen them before_

_Tell harley not to destroy them!!!_

_At least not ALL of them_

_Bring back samples!_

“Do we have anything I could use as a sample bag?” Jason asked.

“I’ve got reusable bags,” Harley shrugged. “You could…put some dirt in there, I guess.”

Jason put the bag over his hand and scooped up a clump of flowers from out of the cracks in the cement. He scraped his knuckles on accident while he was doing it, just slightly, enough for a little bloody scratch, but not enough to really hurt. He tied the bag closed once the plants were inside.

“It looks like they’re all around here,” Harley said. “Like weeds. And Ivy can’t get them to grow,” she laughed. “Look, that one’s sticking out of a hole in the wall.”

Jason tucked the bag into his shirt. “What now?”

“There shouldn’t be anyone inside,” Harley said pointed at the hideout. “We break in, set up some of his stuff with detonators, and leave before it explodes.”

“How do we get in?” Jason asked.

“Here,” Harley handed him a crowbar. “Go to town on the lock, it’s a surprisingly satisfying experience.”

Jason took it, suppressed a weird shudder of some half-remembered _something,_ and beat the door handle and lock until he heard a crack. He jiggled the handle and the door swung open.

“After you, sir,” Harley performed an over dramatic bow. Jason clutched the crowbar in both hands and stepped inside.

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“It’s kind of…empty,” Jason said awkwardly. The warehouse was full of crates and boxes, mostly sealed up. He read the label spray painted over the side of one of them. “Docks.”

“Yeah, he’s packing up some of the old spots and moving out,” Harley said. “That’s how come I know this place is empty. They pack up everything, they let it sit for a few days in case of Batman, then they move it all to some new spot. I’m trying to blow it up before it gets there—Joker can build new hideouts, but I can sure destroy them. I hate to be a crazy ex cliche, but I do like destroying his stuff. Go on, open up whatever you want.”

Jason opened the crate labelled “Docks” and sifted through. Under a pile of packing peanuts were a couple of acid-spraying flowers and fake guns (he was pretty sure they were fake, anyway).

“We’re looking for bombs, pretty much,” Harley said. She was opening a crate almost as tall as she was. “Anything we can use to destroy other things.”

“Acid flowers?” Jason asked.

“How many?” Harley asked. “We’d need…probably three or four hundred to do any real damage.”

Jason closed up his crate and moved onto another one. This one was a little harder to open, and required an attack with the crowbar.

“Face paints,” Jason said.

“Careful,” Harley said. “Those are probably toxic. Don’t let them touch your skin.” She busted open one of the walls of her crate, and packing peanuts and styrofoam spilled over the floor.

Jason opened a few more crates. Novelty trash, mostly, but nothing that looked like a bomb.

“If you see a mask, give a shout,” Harley called from somewhere an aisle or two over. “We gotta get you one.”

“I barely have an identity as it is,” Jason grumbled. “It’s not like it needs to be _secret.”_

“I heard that!” Harley said. “And when you get your memories back, you’re gonna want options, which means as few people as possible should be able to recognize you were doing crimes with me and Ivy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said. He was half-inside a box of purple clothing, checking to make sure there wasn’t anything explosive underneath. He could hear Harley walking up behind him.

“Hey, I found some—HEY!“ Harley’s voice came from a little further away than Jason thought, and she cut herself off with a shout. Jason poked his head out of the box, and turned around to see a man in black and white stripes standing over him with a gun. Jason didn’t have time to move, didn’t have time to duck, didn’t have time to _think_ before Harley was right there with a giant hammer, and knocked the thug in the side of the head. They fought for a little while, scuffling, and the gun went off twice, pinging little shots into the roof. Jason watched, clutching the crowbar, not sure how to help. Finally, Harley nailed him in the head with another hit from the hammer, and he went down with a _thud_. Harley stood over him, breathing heavily. Jason wanted to kick himself. He hadn’t even noticed there was anyone else in the warehouse. He should have been more cautious. If Harley hadn’t been there—

“Sorry, kid,” Harley panted. “This place was supposed to be empty. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Jason said.

“You’re shaking,” Harley said. She helped him climb out of the box. “It’s okay, he won’t wake up for a while, I really took him down. Good thing some of _my_ crap was here too, right?” She gestured to the giant hammer, decorated with doodled designs. “But we should probably move him out of here before we blow this place up.”

“Okay,” Jason said, looking down at the thug. His hands were starting to cramp from how tightly he was holding the crowbar, but he didn’t want to put it down. He felt sick. If Harley hadn’t been there…

“Hey, it’s okay, kid,” Harley said, hugging him. “But look, free domino mask? You want it?”

Jason looked down at the thug, huge and sweaty on the ground, and wearing a domino mask. Jason rubbed at the knot of scar tissue on the back of his head, trying to think. “I don’t want a mask,” he said quietly. “I want a helmet.”

Harley nodded, appraising him. “We can definitely do that. I’ll see what I can find.” They continued to search through the boxes, but they didn’t split up again.

“Hey, how’s this?” Harley held up a red bucket.

“For what?” Jason asked.

“A helmet,” Harley said. “Try it on.” She tossed it over to him.

Jason caught and examined it. It _did_ seem to have thinner spots over the eyes and nose. He slipped it over his head. The world immediately got a lot darker, but he was pleased to notice he could still see pretty well, even without turning his head. It was a little claustrophobic, but he could still breathe easily through his mouth and nose. He knocked on it with a fist a few times, then gently tapped it with the crowbar. “It’s nice,” he said. “Solid.” He meant it. He liked it.

“We can draw a domino on there in sharpie or something when we get home,” Harley said.

“What is it with you and domino masks?” Jason groaned.

“It’s tradition! I used to wear one myself,” Harley smiled. She held up a string of what looked like balloon animals. “Found the bombs! Let’s set ‘em up and go home.”

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Jason wasn’t sure if it would ever come in handy again, but he was slowly building a fair resume of criminal skills. Between the thefts, break-in, and the jury-rigging bombs in an abandoned warehouse, he was really an excellent partner. He felt kind of proud. The only thing he’d refused to do was help with the guy who’d snuck up on him, but Harley had no trouble single-handedly dragging him out the the building. They left the thug in an alley, and Harley set a timer on her watch that would go off when the bombs did.

“See how easy that was?” Harley said. “And so safe! Compared to what I _could_ be doing, I mean. Ivy worries too much, it’s not like I’m spending my days hunting Joker down, you know?”

“How long are you planning on blowing up his hideouts?” Jason asked.

“For the foreseeable future,” Harley grinned. “Maybe it really _will_ drive him out of Gotham. Hey, kid, I know you’re new at this, but once you’ve left the scene of the crime, you can take off the mask.”

“I kind of like it,” Jason said, running his fingertips over the smooth surface. It made everything in Gotham a lot less bright, a lot less loud. And it felt _safe,_ like… The closest thing he could compare it to was a vague memory of being underground, but this didn’t feel like that, it just felt like…a helmet. He really liked it.

They walked back through Gotham Square. “We’ll stop at the farmer’s market closer to home,” Harley said. “And we pay for groceries—remember, we’re _ethical_. We rob from the rich, and all that. Speaking of,” she snorted. They were passing by the Wayne Tech outlet where they’d stolen Jason’s phone. There was a black car parked outside, and employees were swarming it.

“What’s happening?” Jason asked, touching the phone in his pocket. “Do we need to run?”

“No way,” Harley said. “It’s probably just someone famous getting a new computer or something. Maybe it’s even Bruce Wayne, he likes slumming it with his workers and stuff.”

“That isn’t the term I’d use, but I do,” came a deep voice. Jason froze in his tracks. “Hello there, Harley.” Bruce Wayne was standing right in front of them, in line at a hotdog cart.

“Why, hello,” Harley smiled, feigning a curtsy. “Fancy seeing _you_ here today.”

“What a coincidence,” Bruce said, “that I see _you_ here less than ten minutes after receiving a sincere apology from my employees about a failure to prevent a theft today.”

Jason couldn’t move. He couldn’t _breathe._ It was Batman. It was Batman, right? He’d know that voice anywhere…which was strange, because he shouldn’t be _able_ to, but he _did._ Bruce Wayne was Batman…and somehow, just as imposing and authoritative in a formal suit and tie as he was in a weaponized bat suit. Jason nervously clenched his fist around the phone in his pocket, almost to the point he worried he would crush it.

“Coincidences happen,” Harley smiled. “What are the odds?”

“Harley,” Bruce said, looking down at Jason for (seemingly) the first time, “I notice you have a…friend.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harley said, hugging Jason around the shoulders. “This is…um, Red. Red, this is Bruce Wayne.”

Jason just stared, mutely. Batman was the world’s greatest detective. There was no chance he _wouldn’t_ notice it was Jason, right? But the helmet _was_ pretty concealing (and he was particularly grateful in this moment that Harley had demanded he pick out a mask), and maybe if he just stayed very quiet…his brain helpfully decided to choose that particular moment to remind Jason that he _was_ getting his memories back, and he _could_ remember a time Batman was standing over him in a dark alley, a horrible silhouette, fist drawn back—

“Hi there, Red,” Bruce Wayne knelt and held out his hand. “I’m Bruce. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jason instinctively flinched away. He realized he’d grabbed onto Harley’s sleeve for support, and hurriedly dropped it. Was he supposed to shake hands? He felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t throw up in the helmet, that would be a horrible mess.

“He’s not very good with strangers,” Harley said, protectively putting her arm around Jason.

“That’s all right,” Bruce said, letting his hand drop like it was no big deal, but _of course_ it was a big deal, Jason felt like he was going to melt right through the pavement if not for Harley’s arm holding him up. “I understand completely. I wasn’t much for conversation when I was little, either,” Bruce stood back up. He took a step closer to Harley and whispered: “I hope you’re not taking a kid along to commit crimes. Are you still having the War on Joker?”

“He’s still having it on me, so I guess I am,” Harley frowned. “And I’m not the one who takes kids to _fight_ crime. Isn’t that awful dangerous?”

“It is,” Bruce said grimly, and his voice _dropped_ an octave and Jason felt it all the way down to his boots, that was _Batman_ talking. Bruce shook his head, and he was normal again. “Just be careful. Not everyone in this business is careful around kids.”

“Thank you,” Harley smiled, and it seemed genuine. “Yeah, we’re, um. Being careful.” She checked her watch furtively.

Bruce smiled wide, and slipped back into his easygoing billionaire persona. “Mild weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s our cue to leave,” Harley rolled her eyes. Bruce Wayne turned back to the hotdog stand. She took Jason’s hand. “Come on, Red, you—um, Red?” She leaned down. “Jason?” she whispered. “You okay?”

“He didn’t recognize me,” Jason whispered, barely believing it.

“Come on, let’s get a little further away before we talk about this, okay?” Harley said, and she took his hand and led him down the block, away from downtown. Jason followed numbly.

“Hey, I know that was a lot, are you okay?” Harley asked, crouching next to him. “Do you need anything? A paper bag to breathe into? A stress ball? You could use this bracelet as a fidget,” she offered him a dangly bracelet with plastic bits hanging off of it.

“He didn’t recognize me,” Jason said. He took off the helmet. Suddenly it was too hot in there, too claustrophobic.

“You _were_ wearing a pretty good disguise,” Harley said. “You didn’t _want_ him to recognize you, right?”

Jason’s brain supplied a few images of juvenile detention trial, and of Bruce Wayne giving him a disappointed glare. “I…I didn’t want him to recognize me,” Jason said, and it was _true,_ it really was, but it still felt wrong when it came out. “I don’t know what I wanted.”

“I’m sure he’d recognize you if you weren’t wearing the helmet, or if you spoke to him or something,” Harley said soothingly.

“He’s the world’s greatest detective,” Jason said bitterly. “He should have recognized me _now._ If he really cared…right?”

“I’m sure Batman cares about you,” Harley said, hugging him. “And once you get your memories back, you’ll remember that.”

“I do remember some things,” Jason frowned. “I remember who he is, and I remember…” He squinted his eyes shut as he pictured Batman standing over him in the dark. “I don’t want…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harley said, stroking his hair. “It’ll all be okay.”

Jason wasn’t a crybaby, but he did need a hug. He buried his face in Harley’s shoulder, and he took deep breaths until he could remember how to breathe again.

“You don’t have to know what you want right now,” Harley said. “And the things you want could change, and that’s okay. Your memories could come back, and you could feel totally differently at any moment.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. He scrubbed at his eyes, not because he was crying, they were just a little itchy.

“I really think he’d recognize you,” Harley said. “That’s why I made up a code name for ya, I figured if I called you “Jason,” he’d know right away.”

“Thanks,” Jason said. “Red’s not a very good code name though. That’s what you call Ivy.”

“I panicked, I looked at the hood and it was red and I said the first thing I could think of,” Harley smiled. “Can you think of a better one?”

Jason put the red hood back on, adjusting it properly over his head. “I’ll think about it,” he shrugged.

“Almost anything would be better than “Robin,” Harley laughed. “What, a small flightless bird is gonna strike fear into the hearts of your enemies?”

“Robins can fly, I think,” Jason said.

“Whatever,” Harley shrugged. “They’re small, they eat seeds, I think it’s dumb.”

“Let’s just get groceries and go home,” Jason said.

“I almost forgot!” Harley perked up. “You’re gonna _love_ this, kid, we’re gonna get _so_ much junk food. You know how Ivy’s always making salads and putting broccoli in stuff?”

“Yeah,” Jason said carefully.

“It should be a crime,” Harley sniffed. “Before we hit the farmer’s market, let’s go get you some _snacks!_ ” she smiled. She held out her hand for a fist bump. Jason bumped.

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“We’re back!” Harley yelled, kicking the door in with one foot. There was no response. “She’s probably out in the greenhouse,” Harley told Jason. “There’s no startling her anymore.” She dropped her bags, cupped her hands around her mouth, and yelled “JASON TURNED INTO A FULL ZOMBIE AND HE WANTS TO EAT OUR BRAINS!”

“That’s nice, darling,” Ivy called from somewhere distant. “Did he bring my samples?”

“You don’t even care about my brains!” Harley feigned distress.

“If only you had any brains to care about,” Ivy said, walking into the living room.

“Hey!” Harley laughed.

“I got samples,” Jason said. “They’re in my jacket.”

“Thank you. I’ll take these first,” Ivy said, taking the grocery bags out of his hands. She moved to the kitchen and began putting stuff away, fruits and vegetables in the proper locations, junk food shoved into a cardboard box in the pantry clearly marked “Harley.”

“You should put _my_ groceries away too,” Harley pouted.

“You can put your own groceries away or you can deal with the box,” Ivy said. “Jason, if she’s promised you something in exchange for organizing the cabinets in _her_ favor, ignore it, I’ll triple whatever her offer was.”

Jason took off his shoes and jacket and put them by the door. He wasn’t sure where to put the helmet, but he settled on one of the hooks on the door, so it was upright. It didn’t look very stable.

“A bucket?” Ivy asked.

“A helmet,” Jason said, taking it down. Maybe it would be better on the coffee table? Or maybe he should put it in his room. _His_ room. He _was_ staying here, he wasn’t getting handed over to Batman, and apparently…it seemed likely Batman wouldn’t care, even if he _did_ know where Jason was.

“I think I’ve got a sharpie somewhere if you want to decorate it,” Ivy said. “You know, draw a domino mask on there or something.”

“Maybe I don’t _want_ a domino mask,” Jason grumbled.

“My bad, sorry,” Ivy held up her hands. “It’s just—“

“It’s tradition,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Harley told me.”

“And I see she’s told you that healthy eating doesn’t matter, and bought you whatever junk food you wanted,” Ivy said.

“If he’s a healer, he _needs_ junk food!” Harley insisted, trying to cram another few items into her box. “You know how _speedsters_ eat!”

“I suppose that’s true,” Ivy admitted.

“I’m not a healer, though,” Jason said. “Look.” He held up his hand, where his grazed knuckles were still visible. “This didn’t go away.”

“How did you get that?” Ivy asked, looking over his hand. “Did you wash it? You should wash this.”

“What happened?” Harley asked.

“I just scraped off some skin picking up the samples,” Jason said. “They were growing _everywhere,_ like, out of the _cement._ ”

“That’s odd,” Ivy frowned. “I can’t even make them grow in my _soil_ , how would they even survive?”

“That _is_ odd,” Harley said, taking Jason’s hand and examining it. “…Hmm.”

“What?” Jason asked, as Ivy carried the reusable bag into the greenhouse.

“I shoulda been taking notes,” Harley frowned. “Your hands and fingernails should’ve taken a week or two to heal, but they healed overnight. If you were still healing at the same rate, this _should_ have been gone by now if you got ita few hours ago…how’s your memory doing?”

“Um,” Jason flushed awkwardly. “Some stuff is coming back.”

“You might not notice at first,” Harley said. “You don’t usually think about all of your past experiences at once even when you _don’t_ have memory problems, so you might not be able to tell how much has healed. Describe a time you were happy.”

“Uh, today, I guess?” Jason said. “When we were in the grocery store and that guy told you you shouldn’t be buying so much candy because of your figure, and you said—“

“Okay, great,” Harley said, cutting him off. “Describe a time you were outside.”

“Uh, also today, I guess,” Jason said. “What are you—“

“Describe a time you went to the train station,” Harley said.

“Um…” Jason squinted. “I can’t remember one. I must have gone sometime, though—“

“Describe a time you ate ice cream,” Harley said.

“I can’t,” Jason sighed. “I don’t remember.”

“Okay,” Harley said. “We’ve learned two things. One, that we’re having ice cream for dinner, and two, you can’t reliably call on memories from before a few days ago. But you’re having seemingly normal memory abilities now, making and keeping new memories, and your head injury is technically closed…”

“So at some point, I’m going to get all my memories back?” Jason asked.

“I…still have no idea,” Harley winced. “Sorry. Up until now I thought you were still healing at at super-human rate, which I would have guessed would restore your memories a little bit faster, but—“

“You had no idea before, and you still don’t,” Jason grumbled.

“But, I _do_ know what’s for dinner, and it’s definitely ice cream,” Harley said.

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Ivy gingerly removed the plant from the bag. It was slightly wilted, and she tried giving it a little boost to perk up the leaves before she remembered that her powers didn’t work on them. They were awfully stubborn, but she’d get them to talk to her. She wanted to name them, but without any knowledge of their taxonomy or life history, she just didn’t feel qualified yet. But that would come. She contemplated her experimental plots, trying to decide which would be best for the new sample.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked.

She _jumped,_ again. He was like a little ghost, she hadn’t even heard him sneaking up on her.

“Planting the flowers you brought me,” Ivy said, holding it up so he could see.

“Told ya I saw them before,” Jason smirked. “They’re all over Gotham. I think your map is wrong.”

Ivy looked over at the map of Gotham she was using to chart plant sightings. She’d added Jason’s photograph with a pushpin, but it _did_ look rather sparse. “Maybe I _could_ do some more collecting,” she admitted. “You could come, if you wanted.”

“Harley’s taking me to another Joker hideout tomorrow,” Jason said. “She said it’s one of the older ones, in “Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center,” or something like that.”

“That’s what Gotham needs, another Harley Quinn,” Ivy grumbled. “There’s still an opening for an apprentice Poison Ivy. I could use the help more than she could.”

“Maybe,” Jason shrugged. “I’ll collect samples and stuff if you want.”

“Well, I would appreciate it, thank you,” Ivy said. “If your heart is set on destruction though, I’d love to convince you to try some eco-terrorism, I can _guarantee_ it’s more fun than a War on Joker, _and_ you feel good after you’re done.” She picked up a small bit of dirt from the bag and popped it into her mouth.

“What are you doing?” Jason frowned.

“What? Oh,” Ivy said, still chewing. “Trying to figure out what nutrients this plant needs to grow. Maybe my nitrogen balance is all wrong…blech,” she spit it out on the ground. “Tastes like Joker. It must have been too close to the warehouse for me to get a good read.”

“You can tell that just by _tasting_ it?” Jason wrinkled his nose.

“You won’t be able to,” Ivy laughed. “But yeah. It’s much more convenient than the testing I did back in school. I’d go for a post-doctoral degree if I didn’t think I’d get arrested before I stepped through the door.”

“That’s gross,” Jason said.

“It’s tasty!” Ivy said, holding up the little bag of dirt. “Well, this one isn’t, but soil usually is. I’ve never tried it, but I think if I really needed to, I could actually _live_ on soil. Like, stop eating food. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Why would you stop eating food?” Jason asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Ivy said. “Really. Food is _much_ better than soil, I promise. I just think maybe I _could._ I’ve got some basic photosynthesis-like processes, too.”

“Do you run tests on yourself, too?” Jason asked.

“Of course,” Ivy said. “I got superpowers that aligned exactly with my doctoral research, of _course_ I study my abilities.”

“I would _never_ eat dirt,” Jason laughed. “No matter _what_ superpowers I got.”

“It’s certainly not for everyone,” Ivy smiled. “But it doesn’t matter, anyway. I can’t get a read on the sample you brought back. I’ll have to go out and do some testing, and hope you didn’t explode the site too badly. In the meantime…” she set the plant next to another of its fellows, and stuck a label on a toothpick marking where it came from. “Let’s see how it likes an environment released from _phosphorus_ limitation, this time. But that’s enough about plant food, what are _we_ doing for dinner?”

“Harley said ice cream,” Jason said. “That’s okay, right?” He looked up at her expectantly, like he was asking for permission.

“It’s not…the healthiest option,” Ivy said slowly. Jason _wilted._ Wilted was the only proper word for it, and again, the impression she was looking at a dandelion weed washed over her. “I’ll whip up some stir-fry in a little while, and then we can have ice cream for dessert,” Ivy said.

“Thanks, Ivy!” Jason hugged her around the waist, then went back into the house. Ivy groaned. _One_ irresistible pouty-face roommate was enough, but _two?_ Between the two of them, in a week they’d be having a no-veggies protest, and in another, they’d convince her to finally agree to Harley’s “permanent blanket fort in the living room” plan. She smiled, thinking about it. It was really nice having Jason around, actually. She had to remind herself not to get too used to it. Any day now, his memories would come back, and then he’d be back to Batman, living in Wayne Manor and putting _out_ fires instead of starting them. She’d miss him, but that was where he belonged. She went back to work on her map and plant sample charts.

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That night, Jason couldn’t sleep. He went outside to the greenhouse. It was nice and warm, despite the cool night air outside. He just wandered, aimlessly, without any real goal in mind. He ended up in front of the samples of the new plant. As he looked at them, one suddenly pulled itself underground with a soft _pop._ Jason leaned closer, squinting. Another one was sucked underground, _pop,_ and another, _pop._ Jason reached out his hand to grab one, and the ground grabbed _him._ Dirt and soil leapt into the air and latched onto his hand, crawling up his arm like a glove. Jason tugged at it, but he couldn’t get away. With a loud, sucking sound, it _yanked,_ and pulled him underground. Jason held his breath as long as he could, but his body betrayed him and gasped for air, and dirt sucked into his mouth and lungs, the same wet, sticky, muddy taste he remembered. He choked, and his eyes welled up with tears trying to push away the dirt so he could _see,_ but there was nothing, only blackness, and he desperately scrabbled with both hands for the surface but he was falling, slipping deeper underground with every motion, and he couldn’t _breathe—_

Jason woke up to find his blankets wrapped tightly around his chest. He thrashed in panic for a few moments, before gathering sheer force of will to focus and slowly make his way free. When he did, he threw the blankets on the floor, and the pillow for good measure. He was cold now, but cold was _good,_ cold was a reminder that there wasn’t anything on his skin, nothing but air…He needed light. He fumbled at the walls for a light switch, and when he finally found it he just sat on the floor, trying to breathe, and focus. He was here, he was _alive,_ he needed to remember that. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered… He waited for the dream to slip from his memory like all the rest, but it didn’t. It remained, in vivid color, and Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it or put it out of his head. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. But he didn’t go outside to the greenhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some context:  
> Selina Kyle knows Batman's identity, and by extension, her closest friends know too, and because Batman is Batman, he knows who knows who he is (if that makes sense).


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you _ready_ to blow up the Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center!?!” Harley yelled excitedly.

“Blargh,” Jason groaned. “No. I didn’t sleep well.”

“I slept _horrible!_ ” Harley yelled. “But I’ve had three cups of coffee and an egg muffin breakfast sandwich, so I feel great!”

“Coffee,” Jason smiled groggily. “Yes, please.”

“Not so fast,” Ivy stood in front of the coffee machine, blocking it. “Coffee will stunt your growth. How old are you?”

“How am _I_ supposed to know?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“The Internet says Jason Todd should be 20 by now,” Harley said.

“Yeah!” Jason puffed up his chest. “20-year-olds get to drink coffee!”

“Look at you!” Ivy gestured. “At the _oldest,_ you’re 16.”

“Maybe I’m just short,” Jason crossed his arms angrily.

“Wait, I got it!” Harley smacked herself in the forehead. “This is about the healing!”

“I stopped healing,” Jason said. “I’m not doing it anymore.”

“But you _were,_ and that’s the whole point!” Harley said. “Let me get some paper.” Harley scrabbled around in kitchen drawers for a few minutes until Ivy took pity on her and helped her find a pen and piece of scratch paper.

“Okay, what do we know about Jason Todd?” Harley said. She drew a straight line across the piece of paper. “This is your birthday, according to city records. And we don’t know when you met Batman, but _this_ is when Bruce Wayne publicly took you on as a ward,” she made two marks through the line. “That means you were Robin for about three years, from ages 13-16, before the Joker, um. Yeah.” Harley drew a longer line down the paper. “It’s been four years since then.”

“That makes me 20 years old,” Jason frowned.

“It all hinges on what happened while you were dead,” Harley said. She drew a squiggly line off the long one. “Imagine this wavy line is _your_ timeline, and the straight one is everyone else’s. While you were dead, you didn’t age, because you were dead. Then something happened that made you alive again, and gave you temporary healing abilities. My _guess,_ and I can’t prove it without more information, is that while you were still healing at superhuman rates, you also didn’t age. Whatever knit your neurons back together was definitely strong enough to stop you from aging—age is, after all, mostly damage…I’d need more information about what exactly _caused_ all this, but I think you’re still metabolically 16. It’s possible you’re still growing, even.”

“Which means no coffee?” Jason looked up at Ivy.

“I’ve got a special hot chocolate mix you can try instead,” Ivy offered. “It’s what I drink in the morning. It’s caffeine free.”

“Fine,” Jason grumbled. “Harley, did you bring me an egg sandwich?”

“I got _two_ extras, just in case one of us wants a second one,” Harley beamed.

Jason took the sandwich and sat at the table. Harley joined him, and Ivy put together some kind of yogurt with fruit in it before sitting down too. “Can you imagine,” Jason said through a mouthful of food, “if I was 20 years old right now? Batman _really_ wouldn’t recognize me.”

“I’d love to see his face,” Harley laughed. “I’d love to see his face if he saw you _now._ ”

“Wait a minute,” Ivy frowned. “I think Batman _has_ seen Jason at 20 years old.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“How?” Harley asked.

“Darn it, I think Clayface is still under arrest or we could ask him about it,” Ivy said. “Do you remember, about a month ago, he kidnapped Robin?”

“What?” Jason said. “There’s another Robin?”

“Ohhhhh,” Harley winced. “This is awkward. Um, yes, there’s a third one now.”

“Batman _replaced_ me? Just like that?” Jason was angry.

“To be fair, you were dead,” Harley said.

“Still,” Jason sniffed.

“Anyway, about a month ago, Robin—sorry, the _new_ Robin—got kidnapped and we were all talking about it, remember?” Ivy said.

“Vaguely,” Harley squinted. “I was going through some stuff at the time.”

“Clayface had some new trick, everyone was talking about it,” Ivy said. “I should text Selina. I could have _sworn_ he was doing an "evil Robin” bit, and I think he had a white streak in his hair.”***

Jason choked on his sandwich. “ _What?_ ”

“I should call her and ask,” Ivy said. “That was right before I started finding the new species I’ve been studying, so I wasn’t really paying attention to Batman drama.”

“ _Evil_ Robin?” Jason grimaced. “With _my_ hair? No way.”

“Selina would know more than me, she’s the one who stays up-to-date on Batman stuff,” Ivy sighed. “I didn’t even know the current Robin was the third one until after I found you.”

Jason took out his phone and began furiously typing.

“Anyway, is there anything else you need while we’re out, babe?” Harley finished off her egg sandwich and licked her fingers.

“I was thinking I might join you, actually,” Ivy said.

“Really?” Harley raised an eyebrow. “But you said—“

“I know what I said,” Ivy held up her hand. “I’m not volunteering to blow anything up, I just need to collect some plant samples, and I might as well walk into town with you.”

“That’s great!” Harley said. “You can be our backup in case something goes wrong!”

“You think something’s going to go wrong?” Ivy hissed.

“No, of course not, babe,” Harley laughed, and plucked a few orange flowers out of Ivy’s hair. “I just like to be prepared. What’s the saying about having and not needing over needing and not having?”

“Again, I do not want to be asked to blow anything up, and I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to blow something up,” Ivy said. “But, fine. Only because I’ll already be in the area.”

“I’m ready,” Jason said, swallowing the last few bites of his sandwich. “I just need to get my helmet.”

“Then let’s go!” Harley beamed.

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“Codenames,” Harley lectured. “You’ve got a mask, you need a codename.” The three of them walked through Gotham Park together, towards the Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center. Harley carried a baseball bat, Jason wore his helmet (and had the crowbar tucked into his belt), and Ivy carried a collecting kit for her samples. It was a bit of a weird sight, with 2/3 of the group dressed for crimes and 1/3 of the group dressed for science.

“Why do I need a codename?” Jason sighed. “ _You_ don’t have one.”

“That’s because I’m a legend,” Harley flipped her hair dramatically.

“Maybe _I’ll_ be a legend and I’ll just be Jason Todd,” Jason said.

“Harley Quinn _is_ a codename, Doctor Harleen Quinzel,” Ivy rolled her eyes. “It’s not your name, you just shortened your name.”

“Then do I have to be Jay To, or something?” Jason scrunched up his nose.

“I’ve been putting together some ideas that I think you’re really going to like,” Harley said, fumbling with a scrap of paper from one of her pockets. “How about Jay-bird? Like Jay-son!”

“That’s already the Joker’s nickname,” Ivy said.

“How about Red Robin? Because of the red, and you used to be a Robin!” Harley said.

“I’m not a Robin _now,_ though,” Jason said.

“How about _Deadly Nightshade_?” Ivy said dramatically.

“What?” Jason asked.

“You know. Like, I’m Poison Ivy, you could be _Deadly Nightshade,_ ” Ivy said with a flourish.

“It’s a little long,” Jason frowned.

“How about just Nightshade?” Ivy asked.

“There’s already a Night _wing,_ he can’t be Night _shade,”_ Harley said. “How about…Red…Hood! Red Hood!”

“Did you just look at me, see I was wearing my helmet, and describe it?” Jason asked, taking off the helmet.

“Maybe,” Harley smiled.

“There’s gotta be something better than _that,_ ” Jason grumbled, tucking the helmet under his arm.

“A description…That could be an interesting way to go! How about _the White Streak?”_ Ivy suggested.

“Pass,” Jason said.

“The Scar!” Harley said. “Scar-man! He’s scar-y!”

“No,” Jason said. “I’m not picking one of these names. If I come up with something, I’ll let you know, otherwise…just Jason, I guess.”

“You gotta pick one eventually,” Harley said. “You should have something ready to go for the next time we run into Batman! You’re the…the…the _Danger Man,_ and you have a tragic past full of heartbreak!”

“She might be right,” Ivy admitted. “If you’ve got the story ready to go, you’ll be ready with it the next time you need it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jason sighed.

“I’ve got it!” Harley snapped her fingers. “You’re the Fireball, and you’ve got horrible burns over half your face, which is why you wear the mask all the time!”

“Harley, darling, he’s not going to pretend to be Prince Zuko,” Ivy said, shaking her head. “It should be something simple, something easy to remember. And the codename is probably enough for now, but if he _really_ needed something, “I’m an amnesiac searching for my past” is just fine.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Harley said, grabbing Jason’s shoulders protectively. “Now is the _perfect_ time to pretend you’re Zuko! Imagine how funny it would be, waiting to see how long it would take people to get it.”

“ _I_ don’t get it,” Jason frowned. “Is that from a movie or something?”

“We’re going home right now and watching Avatar,” Harley said. “Mission cancelled, sorry everyone, but we have to abort.”

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“This is the place,” Harley gestured grandly to a sign labelled in bold, black letters: “Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center.”

“Okay, the sign _says_ abandoned,” Jason frowned. “Is that part of the name, or—?”

“There was a brief, _very_ brief period of time when the Joker had a label maker and a deal with a print shop,” Harley sighed. “There’s still a bunch of these places left, like the Snowy Cones Ice Cream Factory, and the Jolly Jack Candy Factory—“

“Here they are!” Ivy dropped her bags to the ground and knelt. “Look! Growing right out of the cement, just like in the picture you sent me.” Lo and behold, the area was just as covered in flowers as the warehouse site had been. Ivy unzipped her bag and pulled out a trowel and some tupperware.

“Are they special or something?” Jason whispered to Harley. He kicked one of the flowers, but it didn’t fall over.

“They’ve never been described in any scientific paper, and they’re in a city where radioactive waste regularly gives people powers. And they don’t talk to Ivy. So they’re special, she just doesn’t know how, yet,” Harley shrugged. She waved at Ivy, and yelled “we’re going inside! Keep watch or something!”

Ivy hummed something back and returned to collecting her samples.

“Wait,” Jason tugged on Harley’s arm. “The warehouse had a guy patrolling it. We should check this place out before we go in.”

“Okay,” Harley said. “…How do we do that?”

“Um…” Jason concentrated as hard as he could. If there was ever a time to remember something Batman had taught him, this was it…but nothing was coming to mind. “Maybe we should…climb up on something? So we can see through the skylights?” Jason tried.

“That’s actually a really good idea, kid,” Harley smiled and ruffled his hair. “Mask up, let’s go.”

Jason put on his helmet and followed Harley around the side of the building, to a fire escape. They climbed up and made it to the roof, only to discover that there were no skylights.

“Huh,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Harley scratched her head. “I guess it makes sense to avoid skylights in a lair where you think Batman might try to peep in on you.”

“Yeah,” Jason said lamely.

“Let’s go back down and check the regular windows,” Harley said. They climbed down only to discover that the windows had been boarded up from the inside, and nothing was visible.

“That’s weird,” Jason said. “What do we do now, just bust in not knowing what’s in there?”

“I mean, it’s probably empty,” Harley said. “But I’ve got one more thing we can try.”

They went back to Ivy, who had her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated, palms to the ground. There were little purple flowers sticking out of her hair, recognizably lavender. “Hey there, backup,” Harley said, tapping her on the shoulder.

“What?” Ivy whirled around.

“Can you grow some plants inside the Center and see what’s up? Like if there’s people in there?” Harley asked. She clasped her hands in front of her. “Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ivy sighed. “I could afford to take a break.” She splayed her palm on the ground again and closed her eyes. A few more sprigs of lavender popped out of her hair. “Fascinating,” she whispered, opening her eyes again. “I’m sorry, Harley, but I can’t do it. The only plants in the area are these flowers, and _they_ won’t _talk to me,”_ Ivy glared at the little daisy-clover plants.

“Worth a shot,” Harley shrugged. “I guess we’re going in blind. It’s okay though, that’s what I was gonna do anyway. That’s what I _usually_ do.”

“Okay,” Jason squared his shoulders and put one hand on his crowbar.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want,” Harley said. “I’m _sure_ Ivy could use a research assistant, and it’s not like I haven’t blown up a bunch of these things before we found you.”

“No, I’ll come,” Jason said. “If there _is_ something in there…someone should have your back.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” Harley hugged him and wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “Shall we?”

Jason held the crowbar in one hand, and busted the door lock on the first try.

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“It’s…quiet,” Jason said as he looked around the Abandoned Candy Distribution Center. A large conveyor belt stretched around the room, dusty with disuse. The ceiling was draped with cables, some of which held boxes suspended on hooks. The floor was pristine and clean, the crisp lines of tile stretching into the darkness further within.

“Anybody home?” Harley cupped her hands around her face and yelled. “If you’re a Joker goon, come on out! Let’s just get this over with!”

Her voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the walls. Automatic lights clicked on, progressively further away until the whole space was lit up.

“Told ya no one would be home,” Harley said. “But it looks pretty empty…shucks, I really don’t have the budget to keep buying bombs to trash these places.”

“Something’s wrong,” Jason said. He felt like every hair was standing on end.

“What is it?” Harley asked, raising her bat.

“I…I don’t know,” Jason said, crinkling his nose.

“What should we do?” Harley asked.

“I don’t know,” Jason gripped his crowbar more tightly, flustered.

“Should we leave?” Harley offered. “There’s plenty of other targets on my list.”

“…No, it’s fine,” Jason shook his head. “We’re already here. …It must be my imagination.”

“If you’re sure,” Harley said. “And, hey, look at me,” she snapped her fingers and waved her hand.

Jason was startled, and his head snapped up. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Stay with me, kid,” Harley said. “If something’s wrong, we gotta be sharp. Try not to drift away like that…or at least try and warn me before you do. And that stuff you said before? About you wanted to have my back? I’ve got yours, okay?”

“…Okay,” Jason said, and he breathed slightly easier. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Let’s start over there,” Harley pointed towards what looked like a control room. They walked up some stairs until they reached the dark room, with switches and dials all over it, and a big screen. “Lights,” Harley said, flicking the light switch. Jason could read the labels on the switches now.

“Look,” Jason pointed. “That one’s for the conveyor belt, that one controls the grabbers on the ceiling to pick stuff up…”

“Neat!” Harley said. “Let’s turn on the loudspeaker and make fart sounds on it!” She grabbed a small microphone from the desk and pushed a blinking red button. Staticky fart sounds echoed through the center.

“Which one of us is the teenager, again?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t me,” Harley said. Her face went pale. “I just pushed the button, I didn’t do anything yet.”

“Then what—?” Jason cupped his hands around his eyes and looked out the control room windows. He still couldn’t see anything.

There was a sharp screeching sound in the control room, and they had to put their hands over their ears. The screen suddenly lit up, and after a few moments of static, the screech faded away and a face with a wide smile appeared on the screen.

“It must be an old recording,” Harley said cautiously as the Joker’s laugh echoed out of the speakers.

“Hello, Harley!” The Joker laughed from the screen. “If you’re watching this, I’m so happy to tell you we’ve reached a new stage in this little war of ours!”

“Oh, crap,” Harley said, tightening her grip on the baseball bat. “Jason, get out of here, I’ll handle it.”

Jason hesitated, but after one look at her face, he nodded tightly and bolted out of the control room. He ran across the tile floors as the Joker’s voice echoed over the loudspeaker.

“I think I’ve been _more_ than fair, giving you a chance to leave Gotham,” Joker continued. “Call me sentimental! But you won’t leave, _and_ you’ve been destroying my stuff? Way to be a crazy-ex cliche,” Joker laughed.

Jason could hear Harley’s muffled yelling from the control room. He could see her giving a rude gesture at the screen as she fiddled with something up there. He made it to the door and tugged on the handle, but it didn’t budge. Locked. He slammed at it with the crowbar a few times, but it was no use. He waved frantically at Harley. “It’s locked!” he yelled.

Harley yelled something back, but Jason couldn’t hear it.

“In 20 minutes, the Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center will fill with my own personal specialty, Joker gas,” the Joker was saying. “Don’t worry, it’s particularly poisonous, so you _won’t_ be able to use your precious _antidote_ on it. Please feel free to use the microphone and record a heartfelt apology for how you’ve mistreated me, which I will enjoy after you’re dead.”

Jason watched Harley tell the microphone _exactly_ what she thought of the Joker for about thirty seconds before she slammed it back on the table and ran out of the control room.

“Okay, 20 minutes!” Harley said. “That’s more than enough time, let’s get out of here!”

“It’s locked!” Jason gestured angrily at the door.

“Can you hear Ivy on the other side?” Harley asked.

“Ivy!” Jason beat on the door with his fists. “Ivy! We’re stuck in here!”

“Ivy!” Harley yelled. “This is exactly why I said I wanted backup!”

“Wait, you _knew_ this might happen?” Jason asked.

“I thought I had another week before he got really serious, but, I _did_ consider that some of these places might be booby trapped. But I’ve never met a Joker trap I haven’t busted before!” Harley said.

“Oh my god,” Jason beat his helmeted forehead against the door. “We’re going to die in here.” He’d _known_ something was wrong, he should have insisted they leave, he’d _known_ there was something wrong about this…

“We’ve got 20 minutes to figure this out,” Harley said. “I promise you, we’re not going to die.”

“Great, thanks,” Jason said bitterly.

“I mean it,” Harley said softly. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her. “I’ll get you out of here, okay?”

Jason considered this, and the look in her eyes. “Prove it,” he spat angrily, trying to cover up his fear.

“Ivy!” Harley banged on the door a few more times. “Can you hear us?”

“What’s going on?” Ivy’s voice came, muffled, from the other side of the door. “Why isn’t this opening?”

“It was a trap,” Harley said. “Now would be the time to grow something underground and get us out, if you can.”

“I can’t,” Ivy said. “I told you before. What should I do?”

“Okay, um,” Harley quickly scanned the room. “Ivy, you look around the outside of the building for anything that looks like a poisonous-gas-dispersing bomb, we’ll look inside. Jason, stick to the walls and try and see if you can keep track of Ivy. Whoever finds the bomb first, try and defuse it, and Jason will pass the message along.”

“On it,” Ivy said though the wall. “Jason, go to your left, I’ll start that way.”

Harley ran back up to the control room and began pushing buttons randomly, turning on the conveyor belt and dropping boxes from the ceiling. Jason walked to his left, sticking to the sides of the building, just barely able to hear Ivy behind the wall.

“I’m not seeing anything,” Ivy called.

“Are you sure?” Jason asked.

“I’ll keep looking,” Ivy said. “Should I check the roof?”

Jason jumped at the sound of another box clattering to the floor behind him. “N-no, we were up there earlier and didn’t see anything.”

“How are you doing?” Ivy asked.

“Bad,” Jason said tightly, hoping the wall would muffle the slight tremor in his voice.

“Tell Harley I’m going to signal Batman,” Ivy said. “He’s a Joker expert, he’ll get you out of this.”

“No!” Jason said. “Don’t— I mean—“

“What’s going on?” Harley yelled down.

“She wants to signal Batman for help!” Jason said. “She can’t, right? I mean…she can’t…we’d…”

“Tell her to do it!” Harley yelled. “We’re on a deadline, we need all the help we can get.”

“What did she say?” Ivy’s voice was still muffled behind the wall.

“Um,” Jason winced, trying to focus. He couldn’t get the terrifying image of Batman out of his head. “She said—“

“I’m doing it,” Ivy said.

“Yeah,” Jason took off the helmet and rubbed at his eyes, trying to concentrate. His brain helpfully supplied something that felt like a memory, Batman standing over him in an alley, and he’d done something, he’d stolen somebody’s tires and Batman was going to… Jason shook his head furiously. It didn’t matter _what_ Batman would do to them so long as they got to live through this, right? He tried to communicate to Ivy. “You probably should, I mean—“

“What was that?” Ivy said through the wall.

Jason couldn’t breathe. He leaned heavily against the wall. The message said 20 minutes, that couldn’t already be up, right? He couldn’t smell anything unusual…what did Joker gas smell like? He gasped for air and shoved his fists into his eyes, trying to stay focused. In his memory, Batman leaned down angrily, saying something that Jason couldn’t hear. He crunched down into a ball, and Ivy’s muffled voice was too far away to hear.

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As soon as Jason stopped responding, Ivy knew she had no choice but to keep looking for the bomb and assume he would be okay. She was going to signal Batman, no matter if Harley thought she could handle this or not. On a time limit, with Jason and Harley trapped inside, Ivy wasn’t taking any chances. But it wasn’t like she had Wayne Manor on speed dial, and she hadn’t brought anything useful as a flare, she’d figured she was just here on a collecting trip. Not to mention, she wasn’t even sure if Batman would show up when a villain called for help. So it would be better if he didn’t know it was a villain calling.

When she finished her first lap around the building and didn’t find anything, she called 911. “It’s terrible!” she sobbed in a high pitched voice. “It’s the Joker at the Abandoned Candy Distribution Center! There’s people trapped inside, and there’s a bomb going off in 15 minutes!” She hung up before they could ask her any more questions. She made her way up the fire escape to the roof, just to double check for anything suspicious, but no dice. She squinted towards the police station. They still didn’t have the Bat-Signal up, which was worrying. Jason didn’t have the skills to defuse whatever they found inside, and she was a little worried about Harley’s abilities in that area, too. She’d have to climb down, run until she found some non-daisy-clover-flower plants, and bring them back, see if she could use them to break down the door. Right as she put her handle on the ladder to climb down, she heard a familiar swooshing sound behind her.

She let out a breath of relief, and turned around to see Batman and Robin standing on the roof behind her. “The signal isn’t even up yet,” she grimaced. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“Why would the Bat-Signal be up?” Robin asked. Ivy blinked—for a few moments, he was the spitting image of Jason, minus the white streak—but she shook it off.

“Harley and—a kid, are trapped inside,” she said. “There’s a bomb full of Joker gas going off in less than 15 minutes.”

Batman listened to this and nodded. “Robin, get down to the street and burn through the door with the blowtorch. I’ll go through the vents.” He pointed at a small-ish chimney that seemed like it would just barely fit him.

“What can I do?” Ivy asked.

“Ivy,” Batman glared (but everything looked like a glare in that suit), “If there was something you could do, I’m sure you’d be doing it already.”

“Um,” Ivy flushed. She felt the itch of orange flowers on the top of her head, and she hoped Batman didn’t notice.

Robin jumped off the roof, and Batman kicked open the chimney and crawled inside. Ivy debated which one of them to follow, and eventually settled on Robin. She climbed down the fire escape and joined him at the front door. He was using a small blowtorch, trying to burn through the hinges. Ivy nervously pulled butterfly weed flowers out of her hair, biting her lip and trying to stay out of the way. She looked at the flowers in her hand, and an idea struck her.

She ran to the spot where she’d been collecting samples and pulled up a handful of dirt. She shoved the orange flowers into it and went back to the door. She concentrated, _come on, you can do it, grow_ , she coaxed. She’d slip the weed around the edges of the lock, and if she was really lucky, she’d be able to deactivate it. Worst case scenario, she could at least give Robin some leverage in knocking down the door.

The soil in her palm stirred, and she focused as hard as she could, _you can do it, come on,_ and with a soft _pop_ sound, a yellow-white daisy-clover plant poked out of the soil and refused to grow any further. She groaned and threw it on the ground, then thought better of that and picked it up again, holding it awkwardly.

“Trouble with your powers?” Robin asked, not even looking at her as he worked on the door.

“No,” she grumbled. She checked the time on her phone. 9 minutes until the Joker gas went off, as best she could tell. She chewed on her lip and hoped Batman would rescue them in time. Orange flowers wilted and fell out of her hair.

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“Jason?” Harley yelled. “Jason, did you find anything?” There was no response. She’d been busy searching for the bomb, and she’d lost track of him. She was going to _lose it_ if something happened to him because of her. “Jason?”

She found him crunched in a ball on the floor near one of the walls, arms crammed tightly over his helmet like he was trying to crush his head. “Jason,” she said, patting him gently. “Are you okay?”

“mm fine,” Jason murmured. “Ivy is…calling Batman, like you said, so…”

“Good thing, too,” Harley said. “I couldn’t find anything, so unless she found the bomb outside, Batman is our best option.”

“Yeah, I _know_ ,” Jason hissed, clenching even tighter. “And if I had to pick between Batman and dying…I mean…it should be an obvious choice, right? It should be obvious. And I guess Arkham is better than being dead—“

“We’re not going to Arkham, don’t even worry,” Harley said, sitting next to him on the floor. “We technically didn’t commit any crimes today, _we’re_ the victims here. Batman’ll understand.”

“And you didn’t find the bomb, so we need him,” Jason mumbled. “I just… _you_ talk to him, not me. Like last time. And…and…”

Harley gently patted him on the shoulders. “I promise. If Batman shows up, I’ll do the talking.”

“No, I mean…” Jason lifted his head from his arms and looked up at her. “Ugh. I don’t know what I mean.”

“It’ll be okay,” Harley said, continuing to try and provide emotionally-reassuring pats. She was a little more worried about whether or not the bomb would go off than if Batman was going to show up, but there was nothing she could do about either of those things right now. The only thing she _could_ control was trying to be there for Jason right now. “Want to hear Batman’s secret weakness?”

“What?” Jason asked.

“Yep,” Harley said. “Well, it usually only works once, but that’s pretty good, I think.”

“What is it?” Jason asked, un-curling just slightly.

“He’s a big softie,” Harley said. “Literally, the man will listen to your backstory for _days_ if you could talk that long. And if you’ve got dead parents? He’s just as likely to give you a warning and let you escape.”

“I guess I need a fake backstory then,” Jason mumbled.

“Amnesiac looking for your parents is a great one,” Harley said. “It’ll definitely work. You know how in self-defense classes, they tell you its okay to kick your attacker in the balls and run?”

“I guess so?” Jason shrugged. “I don’t remem—I don’t think I’ve ever been to one?”

“In this situation, it is totally okay to give Batman your one-liner backstory and run,” Harley said. “Like I said, it only works once, but it’s a neat trick. And you’re a kid, Batman _never_ hurts kids. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I think I remember Batman hitting me,” Jason said. “I…I think I stole the Batmobile’s tires, once.”

“Really?” Harley laughed. “That’s crazy! You didn’t!”

“I remember…I was holding one of his tires in my hand, and I looked up, and he was standing over me,” Jason said. “Then it gets all fuzzy. He says something and leans down really close.”

“…It’s nice that you’re getting some memories back,” Harley said.

“I don’t remember what happened after that, but I can guess,” Jason grumbled. “I’m from Crime Alley, I _know_ what happens to people who mess with Batman. I wonder if I’ve got hospital records somewhere. I wonder if I healed from _that._ ”

“Hey, no _way_ did Batman beat you up,” Harley said. “I promise, he doesn’t hurt kids, I’ve literally _never_ heard of it.”

“Did you hear about the kid he buried in his backyard?” Jason said, gesturing down at himself. “Maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know and I can’t remember about Batman.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Harley said. “…If you ever want to talk about anything—“

“I don’t,” Jason said. “I really…I don’t.”

“Okay,” Harley said. “That’s perfectly fine too.”

“How much time do we have until the bomb goes off?” Jason asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” Harley said. _7 minutes._ “But here, I’ve got something for you.” She unscrewed the end of her baseball bat and pulled out a small syringe full of green fluid. “How do you feel about needles?”

“Um, okay, I guess,” Jason said.

“This is all the anti-Joker-gas antidote I got,” Harley said, handing it to him. “If you smell something burning, or feel a burning sensation on your skin, inject it into your thigh, right here, okay?” She showed him where.

“What about you?” Jason asked.

“I’ve taken it plenty of times, I’ve still got a lot in my system,” Harley said. “But just in case it doesn’t work…you still have the crowbar, right? You’ll be able to protect yourself.”

Jason crunched into a ball again and put his arms back over his head.

“It’ll all be okay,” Harley said. “You’re gonna make it out of here, with or without me, kid.”

Jason whispered something she could hardly hear.

“What was that?” she leaned closer.

“Once we make it out of here, we’re gonna blow up _every one_ of Joker’s stupid hideouts,” Jason said seriously. “We’re gonna…we’ll make _him_ have to leave town. I don’t…” he paused and took several deep breaths. “I don’t ever want to feel this bad ever again.”

“Running the Joker out of town won’t solve that,” Harley said quietly. “Killing him probably wouldn’t fix it either. There’s always things that make you feel bad, the important thing is just…you sit with it as long as you need to, and then you let it disappear.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Jason said. “You just told me you think you’re going to die.”

“It’s a risky business,” Harley shrugged. _5 minutes._ “That’s kind of a usual thing for me, I’m used to it.”

There was a loud clattering sound on the other side of the center.

“Oooh, hoo hoo!” Harley jumped up in excitement. “ _Nobody’s_ dying today, kid, that’s the sound of Batman breaking in!”

“Yay,” Jason said softly and not-at-all genuinely. He slowly got to his feet, gripping his crowbar in both hands like it was a life preserver.

“Stick close to me, okay?” Harley said. Jason nodded.

They walked back into the center, where Batman stood in the middle of the floor, holding a piece of broken electronics and wiring in one hand. There was a vent grate next to him on the floor. Jason looked up and saw an identical hole cut out of the ceiling.

“The device is deactivated,” Batman said in a low, grumbly voice.

“Wow, thank you so much!” Harley shook her head. “What are the odds, we were just stopping by because I thought I left my sweater here, and next thing we know, we’re trapped! It sure is lucky you came by.”

“Can it, Harley,” Batman grumbled. “This is about the War you and Joker are having. He started it by calling a hit on you, you’ve been blowing up his hideouts, and now he’s taking _his_ turn again.”

“You can’t prove anything,” Harley said.

The Joker’s laugh and the phrase “Bye-bye, Harley!” crackled out of the broken electronics.

“Where’d you find it?” Harley asked.

“In the vents,” Batman said. He dropped it to the ground and it sparked a few times. “This was the detonator. The gas tanks are still up there. I’ll dispose of them safely.”

“Well, I owe ya one, Bats,” Harley sighed. “Thank you.”

“Why did you bring Red?” Batman gestured at Jason. “You’ve never used a partner for the War before.”

“My name’s not Red,” Jason grumbled.

“Well, you didn’t pick a codename, so that’s the best we got,” Harley whispered. The front door sizzled as the hinges burned through, then collapsed inside. Robin and Poison Ivy stood on the other side.

“Great work, Robin,” Batman said. Harley watched Jason _visibly wince_ at that.

“You said you wanted to talk to Poison Ivy,” Robin pointed a thumb at her. “Here she is.”

“Talk to me about what?” Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story,” Batman sighed. He reached into a pocket under his cape and pulled out a white and yellow flowering plants with leaves shaped like some combination of a daisy and a clover. “Do you recognize this?”

Ivy gasped. “Yes! Do you know what they are?”

“Yes,” Batman said. “I’ve been analyzing—“

“Say no more,” Ivy held up a hand. “My lab or yours?”

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There were massive benefits to a mask that covered your whole face—you didn’t have to worry so much about what your facial expression might give away, for example. Jason watched, mouth open in surprise, as Ivy _invited Batman back to their house._ To talk about _plants._ Batman agreed, sent his _new_ Robin home (Jason wondered angrily how long after his death it took for Batman to get a _new_ sidekick) and then helped Ivy and her sample bag into his car. The new Robin had a motorcycle, and zoomed away at top speed. Jason was insanely jealous.

“Do you both want a ride too?” Batman asked.

Harley took one look at Jason and said “I think we’ll walk home, thanks.”

“Just try not to get yourselves trapped again,” Batman smirked, then got into his car and drove off.

“This isn’t happening,” Jason said. “This…this _isn’t happening.”_

“Huh,” Harley scratched her head. “I wouldn’t have called it, but I guess Ivy and Bats are gonna do science together for a few hours.”

“Ten minutes ago, we were trapped in an abandoned candy distribution center, facing death,” Jason said.

“And now we’re not!” Harley said. “That’s good, right? You don’t look so good.”

Jason took off the helmet. He stared down at his reflection in the red surface. “You and Ivy…you’re really close with Batman. You know his identity, you’re working together with him…”

“We’re not _that_ close,” Harley shrugged. “Two sides of a coin, maybe. No, that’s…hmm. Yeah I’m not really sure _what_ we are with Batman.”

“You’ve known _him_ longer than me,” Jason said grimly. “Harley… _promise me_ you won’t tell him who I am.”

“Oh, kid,” Harley sighed. “He’s gonna find out eventually.”

“I know,” Jason said tightly. “Just…promise.”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective,” Harley said. “For all we know, he _already_ knows who you are.”

_That_ was terrifying to contemplate. It was one thing to see his replacement, it was another to worry Batman had just gotten sick of Jason, and wouldn’t even care if he saw him again. “Just promise,” Jason said.

“Okay,” Harley said. She held up one hand. “I promise. I swear on…I don’t know what to swear on, but I promise, I will _not_ tell Batman who you are.”

“Thank you,” Jason said. He put his helmet back on. “I guess let’s go home, then.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Harley asked.

“I just won’t talk to him, and eventually he’ll go away,” Jason said firmly.

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Batman drove directly to Ivy’s house without asking for directions, but she called him “Bruce” once while they were on the way, so she figured they were probably about even in terms of power dynamics. She really didn’t want to have to go through with the posturing, and the “I could kill you 20 different ways at this range,” and then _she’d_ have to remind him that at this range she could knock him unconscious before he could try anything…It would be so much easier to just skip all of that and go straight to the team-up.

There wasn’t really a good parking space, and he was going to park on her lawn, but she glared at him until they found a space on cement. She invited him inside and led him to the greenhouse and her little experimental setup.

“Here’s what I’ve got so far,” Ivy said. “My powers don’t work on them, they won’t talk to me, and…that’s pretty much it. I can’t figure out how to make them grow.”

“Your powers don’t work on them?” Batman raised an eyebrow.

“No, they…they _will,_ ” Ivy said. “I just need to get a handle on them first, study them, learn a little more about their biology… _then_ they’ll talk to me.”

Batman appeared to accept this, and removed several pressed flowers and leaves from a pocket. “I think I can help with that, a little. I’ve made a map of where I’ve spotted them around Gotham—“

“Me too!” Ivy said excitedly. She pulled her map off the wall and laid it across the table. “Wait, why are _you_ tracking them?”

“Because they’re resistant to the Joker’s chemicals,” Batman said.

Ivy took several moments to process this. “They’re _what?_ ”

Batman laid out his map. His was much more detailed, with a lot more sightings marked out, and several hot spots in red. “These are all spots with recent heavy Joker activity,” Batman said. “He’s not exactly very _clean_ about the way he does things, and his chemicals leak out. This plant can resist the toxin and continue to grow, even when other plants can’t. That’s why they dominate in Joker hotspots, because their competitors are all dead, and it’s also why they aren’t growing anywhere else, because their resistance to Joker toxin is too costly anywhere without the pollution.”

“Woah,” Ivy said. “That explains some of _my_ data, too.” It also explained why Jason’s sample had tasted so strongly of Joker. She could feel sprigs of lavender popping out over her scalp as she considered Batman’s information. She was proud to be able to show off Jason’s photograph, taken at a spot Batman hadn’t yet charted. “But what’s the real issue?”

“The Joker has been packing up old hideouts, and I assumed it was because of the War he and Harley are having,” Batman said. “But look. I’ve spotted flowers in three locations around town where there _hasn’t_ been any Joker activity, and I can’t trace any of his chemicals in the ground or in the water—“

“—but he must be there, because otherwise these flowers wouldn’t grow,” Ivy nodded. “I see.”

“He’s planning something,” Batman clenched his fist on the table. “At best, it’s an attack on Harley. At worst, it’ll affect the whole city.”

“I see,” Ivy said. “So you came to me, because…?”

“I need a plant expert,” Batman said. “This hasn’t been described in any scientific literature I could find, and I don’t have the time to do much more than map sightings and track its properties. Even with _that_ I’m falling behind.”

“I think I can help with that,” Ivy said. “I was studying them anyway. If you can share your data, and give me a week or so, I should be able to use my powers on them, too.”

Batman handed over a USB drive with a bat-logo on it. Ivy rolled her eyes and took it.

“Well, thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate the help. I’ll be sure to let you know what I can find out.”

“There’s…one more thing,” Batman said awkwardly.

“What is it?” Ivy asked.

“I…” Batman looked uncomfortable as he struggled with the words. “I think your team and mine should coordinate on this.”

“You want a _real_ team-up?” Ivy asked. “And what do you mean _my_ team?”

“I need to know what the Joker is up to, and I need to know _soon,_ ” Batman rubbed the back of his neck. “You and Harley…and your sidekick, too, I guess. Harley said his name was Red?”

“Oh, that’s not his name,” Ivy said.

“What is it, then?” Batman asked.

“Um,” Ivy flushed bright red, trying to think of something. “He’s…he hasn’t picked a codename yet.”

“I understand,” Batman nodded. “If he’s willing, we could use the help. Nightwing and Batgirl are also working on this, and I think between the six of us, we could really get something done _fast._ ”

“I suppose we could,” Ive said, considering. “I guess you’re suggesting we meet _here_ rather than the Batcave.”

“I was hoping you might agree to that,” Batman said. “I can’t really say how well this would work, but…my team’s help studying the plants, your team’s help stopping whatever the Joker has planned…we want the same things. I think we can make this work.”

“We’ll have to see,” Ivy said. “I’ll talk to ‘my team’ and see what they think. And we reserve the right to back out at any time.”

“Fair enough,” Batman nodded.

“But, on a trial basis…I think we should do it. Now let’s go over your data,” Ivy said. She plugged the USB into her computer and opened it up. Pages and pages of documents and graphs. They would be here a while.

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“I just won’t talk to him, and eventually he’ll go away,” Jason had said. It was a good plan. It wasn’t the world’s _best_ plan, but it would work.

Only Batman didn’t go away. He was still there when Jason and Harley got home, even though they’d stopped for frozen yogurt on the way. He was still wearing the mask, as if anyone there didn’t know who he was. But it was a good excuse for Jason to keep _his_ mask on, so he waved awkwardly to where Batman and Poison Ivy were discussing pH or organic horizons or something else boring and confusing _(they’re just plants, you just plant them in the ground and you’re DONE)_ and then disappeared into his room. The guest room. His room. …It still felt weird trying to process where he was supposed to fit in all this.

He’d taken Harley’s advice and collected some magazines from around the house to read. He was wishing he’d grabbed the computer instead when he heard a knock at his door. Probably Ivy asking him if he was still hungry for dinner after the fro yo. He opened the door just a crack to make sure. It was Ivy. He opened it a little wider. “Is Batman gone?” he asked, peering down the hallway.

“No, not yet,” Ivy said nervously. “Mind if I come in?”

Jason let her in. She fidgeted awkwardly, but there weren’t any orange flowers in her hair, so whatever it was couldn’t be _that_ bad. “What?” Jason snorted. “You came to tell me he’s staying for dinner or something?”

“Yes,” Ivy grimaced. “I only asked to be polite, and then he said yes—“

“What? No, I was joking, come on,” Jason groaned. “Really?”

“That’s…part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Ivy said. “Harley and I made you a promise that we wouldn’t turn you in or anything, and that promise still stands, I want to lead by saying that.”

“I know you’re going to say “but,” Jason grumbled.

“But, Batman and I are considering a slightly longer-term team-up,” Ivy said. “We’d work together both studying my plants and stopping the Joker. Him and his team would come over a few times every week, and Harley and I would run a few missions with them…”

“Great,” Jason groaned.

“But every time one of them comes over, especially Batman, we’d be risking your secret,” Ivy said.

“I know,” Jason said.

“So…I guess I’m asking how you feel about that,” Ivy asked.

“What do you mean?” Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I mean…what do you think about that,” Ivy said. “You think we can’t manage it?”

“I think it—“ Jason paused. “Why? Didn’t you agree to it already?”

“No, I didn’t,” Ivy said, sitting down on his bed. “Batman said something about how he wanted my team to work on this, and I…well, _you’re_ part of my team. I mean, you, Harley, and me are kind of a team, at least for a little while, and—“

“Wait, wait,” Jason held up his hands, trying to process this. “You’re asking for my _permission?_ To team up with Batman?”

“I mean…I was hoping for an honest conversation about how you would feel about that,” Ivy said.

“What if I said I didn’t want you to?” Jason asked. “What if I said no?”

“I’d go back out there and tell Batman that if he still wants to work together, we meet at _his_ house, and you’re not involved,” Ivy shrugged. “He would probably—“

“You wouldn’t,” Jason said. “This is too important. You’ve been trying to study those plants since…since…since I don’t even know when!”

“And _maybe_ I realized it was just as important to me that you feel _safe_ in our _house_ ,” Ivy said quietly.

“… _Our_ house?” Jason asked. “…You really think…you, me, and Harley are really a _team?_ ”

“Only if you want us to be,” Ivy said, holding up her hands. “I’m not…I won’t _force_ you to be a part of anything you don’t want.”

Jason considered this. “…I don’t want to deal with Batman…but I _like_ missions with you guys. I would… _like_ to be a part of this. I think. But I can still back out any time I want?”

“Of course,” Ivy said. “I promise. And we’ll do everything we can to keep your secret for as long as we can.”

“Batman’s gonna figure it out eventually, isn’t he,” Jason sighed.

“Probably,” Ivy said. “He’s the world’s greatest detective. He’s Batman, and you were a Robin. I’m surprised he didn’t know it was you the first time he saw you.”

“The helmet is really concealing,” Jason said, flushing red. _Or maybe Batman DID know, and it was just that he didn’t CARE where Jason was or what happened to him._

“Well,” Ivy said, patting him on the shoulder, “you should know Batman _is_ staying for dinner tonight, if you wanted to skip or find a different mask that doesn’t cover your mouth—“

“I can eat with it,” Jason said. “I just push it up on my forehead. Harley showed me how when we went for fro yo.”

“What? After the Abandoned Candy Distribution Center? Harley _knew_ I was going to make a casserole tonight,” Ivy frowned.

“I mean, I’m still hungry!” Jason smiled awkwardly.

“Well, dinner will be ready in half an hour,” Ivy smiled, ruffling his hair. “Are you going to hide in here until it’s ready?”

“I guess not,” Jason sighed. “…The computer isn’t in here, so—“

“I understand completely,” Ivy said. “What do I tell Batman about you? You haven’t even picked a codename—“

“Don’t tell him _anything,_ ” Jason said. “It’s not like I’m a supervillain or something. And _he’s_ still wearing _his_ mask, right? So nobody needs to know _anybody’s_ secret identity. He won’t even ask about me, you’ll see.”

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Jason sat on the couch and played video games on Harley’s computer while Ivy prepared a casserole in the kitchen and Harley got in her way as much as possible. Batman was presumably still in the greenhouse, doing science on plants. After a little while, he emerged into the living room, looking a lot less scary in the weird fluorescent lighting. Batman out on the streets was still terrifying, but Batman next to a lamp in a random living room was _much_ less so. It was kind of ridiculous that he was still wearing the mask, but Jason figured he had no way of knowing Jason knew who he was, and it was safer to leave it on. And Jason wasn’t complaining, because _his_ mask was staying on until after Batman left.

Batman was walking weirdly. At the Gotham Abandoned Candy Distribution Center, he’d glided smoothly and silently around. Here, he was making large, exaggerated movements as he gave Jason’s spot on the couch a wide berth. Jason closed the computer screen just slightly, trying to see what he was doing.

Batman completed his weird half-circle a little more quickly once he could tell Jason had noticed him. He stopped awkwardly in front of Jason, then began making a bunch of hand motions, slowly at first, then a little more rapidly. “Hello,” Batman said. “What’s…your…name?”

Jason stared at him.

Batman tried again, executing the hand motions a little more precisely as he asked again. “What’s your…name?” Jason looked over at Harley and Ivy, not sure what he was supposed to do.

“I’m sorry,” Batman said, circling his fist over his chest. “I’m… not very…good at sign language. I’m learning.”

“I…” Jason coughed. His mouth felt _very_ dry, all of a sudden. “I don’t sign.”

“Oh,” Batman said. “I thought—uh. In that case, hi.”

Jason took another furtive glance at Ivy, who was trying to wrestle a spoon away from Harley in the kitchen. Neither of them seemed to notice what was going on.

“Hi,” Jason said stiffly.

“I, uh—“ Batman coughed. He squatted awkwardly in front of the couch. “I figured I should introduce myself. I’m—“

“Batman,” Jason said, trying not to sound angry about it.

“Uh, yes,” Batman said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Harley said you go by Red, but Poison Ivy said—”

“…I don’t,” Jason said. “…um. Go by Red. I don’t.”

“What do I call you, then?” Batman asked. _Shit._

“Red, um, hood, Red Hood,” Jason said, wishing he’d spent a little more time thinking about this. He didn’t _need_ a codename, his name was Jason and that was what he wanted Ivy and Harley to call him…but now he was in _this_ situation, and stuck with “Red Hood.” Great.

“Red Hood,” Batman said, feeling it out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jason _wheezed._ This was ridiculous. He might as well take off the helmet and dance around, did Batman really have _no idea_ who he was?

“Well, uh,” Batman stood back up and dusted himself off. “I’ll, uh. Leave you to…what you were doing before.”

“Um, thanks?” Jason was going to _lose_ it. This was _ridiculous._ World’s greatest detective? Who had given him _that_ title? But to be fair, if you weren’t expecting it, it didn’t seem likely that you’d suspect a random person you just met was secretly your ex-sidekick who’d been dead for four years. Jason wondered if a tombstone with his name on it was still up at Wayne Manor. He shivered, thinking about it. Batman wandered into the kitchen and helped Harley set the table, and Jason pretended like that was a completely normal thing that didn’t at all shake his fragile grip on reality to the core.

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“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ivy asked, an hour or so later, once Batman had gone.

It really wasn’t. Jason could’t exactly talk much while he was eating, which was an excellent excuse not to engage in conversation with Batman, who only wanted to talk about the plant samples and the recent mildness of the weather, anyway. Ivy could understand why the press so easily believed the “Bruce Wayne is just a rich, dumb, playboy” thing, if _that_ was how he acted at social gatherings. It was like he’d once read a book about how to have conversations, and was repeating its advice every second he wasn’t fully in Bat-mode. It worked great for the dumb billionaire persona, and horribly in any normal conversation.

Jason took off his helmet and shook out his hair. The white streak in his bangs flopped over his eyes. “We’re not having dinner with him _every_ night, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Ivy said. She really _hoped_ they weren’t. “The plan is for me to work on the plants, with the assistance of Nightwing and Batgirl, and Harley is going to work with him and Robin on figuring out what the Joker wants.”

“Which team am I on?” Jason asked.

“Which one do you want?” Ivy shrugged.

Jason looked at Harley, then back at Ivy. “Yours,” he said.

“That sounds great,” Ivy said. “Nightwing and Batgirl are supposed to stop by at some point either tomorrow afternoon or during tomorrow night’s patrol. I’ll work up a plan for a _bigger_ collecting trip, a much more thorough one. We’re going to comb every inch of Gotham for these plants.”

“You should name them,” Jason said. “Especially if we’re going to _literally_ talk about them every day with Batman’s crew.”

“I wasn’t going to name them until I learn a little more about them,” Ivy flushed. “I—“

“If we don’t name them now, what if Batman names them first?” Jason asked.

“Well, what do _you_ think we should call them?” Ivy crossed her arms.

“Don’t ask _me,_ I couldn’t come up with a code name better than _Red Hood,_ ” Jason winced. “Guess I’m stuck with that, now.”

“It’ll be okay,” Harley patted him on the shoulder. “You can always reinvent yourself, make a new costume, pick a new name—“

“This is _barely_ a costume,” Jason groaned. “What, I wear a leather jacket and bucket on my head and it’s a _costume?_ I can’t think of any superheroes _or_ super-villains that wear _jeans.”_

“That’s because none of them are _you,_ ” Harley hugged him happily. “You’re gonna make it look cool.”

“I make it look like normal clothes and a red bucket,” Jason grumbled.

“I’d like to know a little more about its taxonomy before I name it,” Ivy rubbed her chin. “I might write a paper. But if anyone wants to come up with a common name, I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’m going to bed,” Harley yawned. “Am I supposed to meet up with Batman tomorrow? Is this a thing where I call him, or does _he_ call _me?”_

“Heck if I know,” Ivy shrugged.

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Jason dreamed he was in a large, opulent mansion, all pillars and wide staircases and tapestries and long tables and candles and chandeliers… It was familiar, but alien, the way dreams always are.

“Is there a problem, Master Jason?”

Jason turned around, and behind him stood a man in a butler’s uniform. “It’s nothing, Alfred,” Jason said. He didn’t recognize him, and he wasn’t sure what was going on, but the right words came out of his mouth anyway.

“ _Nothing_ doesn’t usually get in the way of your algebra homework,” Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Can I offer you some assistance?”

“I’ve had _enough_ help with _subtraction_ ,” Jason grumbled, fiddling with the toe of one of his shoes.*****

“Ah,” Alfred said. “I understand.”

“I don’t understand why he told me to stay home!” Jason blurted. “We’re partners! He needs me out there.”

“I think perhaps, Master Jason, you’re more worried that he _doesn’t_ need you,” Alfred smiled sadly.

“Nu-uh,” Jason shook his head firmly. “We’re partners. We work together. Batman _and_ Robin, we’re a _team._ He needs me…I just don’t get why _he_ doesn’t get it.”

“He was concerned for you,” Alfred said. “Your wrist needs time to heal.”

Jason looked down. His left wrist was wrapped in bandages. “I can fight like this,” Jason said, flexing his fingers. It hurt.

“How about I make you some tea, and we’ll see if we can finish your homework together?” Alfred rubbed his hand gently on Jason’s shoulder.

“Blech,” Jason gagged. “Can we have hot chocolate instead?”

“Of course,” Alfred smiled, then everything went fuzzy and blurry and dark.

Jason woke up breathing heavily, with his mouth tasting like dirt. He snuck quietly out of his room into the bathroom and spat into the sink a few times. He squinted his eyes shut and concentrated on his breathing. He spat again, and gave up on his mouth goin back to normal on its own. He went for his toothbrush. He hated how the mint toothpaste tasted, but it was strong enough that it wiped out everything else, real or imagined.

It wasn’t a nightmare. By any definition of the word, it hadn’t been a nightmare. But his heart was still beating so hard he could _feel_ it in his chest, and his mind was racing with adrenaline. He leaned against the sink as he brushed his teeth, and he felt a pain in his left wrist. He winced and pulled away, flexing his fingers. It felt fine. He twisted it around a few more times, decided it was nothing, and spat into the sink again.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled with sleep, sticking up at weird angles. The cool, harsh lighting of the bathroom made all of his scars stick out, ugly red lines dragging over his skin, on his nose, down his eyebrow, slicing over his jawline, little thin lines all over him. He scratched the big one on his nose. It was raised up and bumpy under his fingers. “Batman usually adopts prettier ones,” a memory helpfully whispered in his ear. Jason tugged at the white streak in his bangs and wondered how he’d look if he dyed it black. But he didn’t have to dye it black, because no one could see it under the mask. No one could see _anything_ under the mask, and Jason was starting to think it was better that way. And it would be better if he didn’t get _any_ of his memories back. He _should_ just become an amnesiac super-criminal, he’d work with Poison Ivy and do some eco-terrorism, _that_ would show Batman for…

Jason couldn’t figure out where he was going with that. He was too tired to think. He turned out the light and crept back into bed, where he dreamed about nothing at all.

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The next day, Ivy was out in the greenhouse, examining slides of the daisy-clover plant under her microscope, when she felt an insistent tugging of _Celastrus scandens_ on her sleeve.

_What is it?_ she asked.

_Not food,_ the vines replied.

_Where?_ she sighed. There was probably a squirrel stuck on her roof again, or something. She followed the trail of vines to a skylight, which was already open—that was odd.

“Mmph,” there was a muffled sound to her right. She looked over, and for a moment, she was looking at Jason, wrapped up in her vines at Wayne Manor.

_All right, let him go,_ she said. The American Bittersweet vines uncoiled, and released a gasping Nightwing onto the floor of her greenhouse.

“Guess there’s — _cough_ — no sneaking up on ya, huh?” Nightwing coughed and gasped a few more times.

“My babies aren’t used to visitors who enter through my roof,” Ivy frowned. She leaned back towards the house and yelled “Anyone who needs a mask, put it on, now—we’ve got bats.”

“Plenty of non-bat creatures have wings and fly around at night,” Nightwing stood and brushed himself off. “I take offense.” He coughed once more, and a leaf flew out of his mouth.

“So what are you then, a moth?” Ivy rolled her eyes. “Welcome to my home, I guess.”

“Is it Batman?” Harley leaned out the door, looked over at them, and frowned. “Aw, it’s just Nightwing?”

“Okay, I take offense _again_ ,” Nightwing said. “Am I just here so you can make fun of me, or am I here to collect plant samples, or something?”

“You’re here to collect plant samples?” Ivy checked her notes. “Already? I mean, yes. I have an assignment ready to go, but I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight.”

“Batgirl’s got the night shift,” Nightwing shrugged. “I’m the one who doesn’t have a day job, so. Here I am.”

“Let me get you some collection equipment,” Ivy said, rushing back to her table and shoving some materials into a bag.

“Do I get a partner?” Nightwing asked. “I mean. I don’t need one, it’s just that Batman said this was supposed to be a team effort, I figured. Uh. That I’d ask.”

“ _I’m_ not going,” Harley wrinkled her nose. “ _You’re_ no fun. I’ll wait for Batgirl.”

“I’ll go alone, then,” Nightwing said.

“I’ll check on—um,” Ivy couldn’t remember which codename Jason had picked.

“Red Hood,” Harleys supplied helpfully. “We’ve got ourselves a sidekick, now.”

“Batman said something about that,” Nightwing said. “Sounds good to me. I’m great with kids, everyone says so.”

“By ‘everyone,’ do you mean Batman?” Harley asked, patting him on the shoulder. “Because I’m _sure_ he knows what he’s talking about, kid,” Harley smiled.

“Ha, ha,” Nightwing rolled his eyes.

“Can you go check on Red Hood while I brief Nightwing about my equipment?” Ivy asked, looking around for her extra gloves, which she thought she’d put down right next to the microscope…

“Got it,” Harley winked and did finger-guns.

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“You ready?” Harley asked.

“I guess so,” Jason adjusted his helmet.

“You’ve got your panic button?” Harley asked.

“Yep,” Jason said. Harley had directed him to an app with GPS tracking that would automatically send her a “help” text if he pressed a certain code on his lock screen. “I’ll be fine, Harley.”

“If you’re sure,” Harley pouted, fussing with his jacket. “You never know with heroes, they’re always so unpredictable. One minute they’re teaming up, the next they’re taking you hostage.”

“What?” Jason whirled around.

“Yep,” Harley nodded solemnly. “One time, Batman talked to me for a whole _hour_ about how I should switch sides and get a bat logo, or something, I wasn’t really listening. Good guys are like that, so much monologuing about ‘doing the right thing’ and stuff.”

“Oh,” Jason breathed a sigh of relief. “Harley, I _said_ I’ll be fine.”

“Just don’t go getting any bat logos yourself,” Harley wagged a finger. “Young man, if you _really_ want to try some do-gooding, we’d rather you do it in the house, were we can keep an eye on you.”

“Hilarious,” Jason rolled his eyes. He tucked his crowbar into his belt and followed Harley out to the greenhouse, where a tall man in black with a blue stripe was listening intently to Ivy’s instructions about data collection and sampling protocols.

Nightwing turned around and saw them. “Hey there,” he smiled.

“You’re _old,_ ” Jason wrinkled his nose under the helmet.

“What? Three for three, today? I take offense yet again,” Nightwing sighed. “I’m 20-something, that’s not _old._ How old did you _think_ I was?”

“I dunno, like…about the same age as me, I guess,” Jason said.

“How old are _you?”_ Nightwing asked.

Jason looked at Harley. She held up one finger, then six, and gave him a thumbs up. “Um…”

“Never mind, forget I asked,” Nightwing held up his hand. “I shoulda known the drill, I’ve only worn a mask most of my life… Red Hood, right?” He held out his hand.

“Uh, yep,” Jason said, shaking it.

“Nightwing,” Nightwing pushed back his hair with one hand.

“I think you’re ready,” Ivy said, closing up the kit of materials. “Ask Red Hood if you have any questions, he knows how I like things done.”

“Excellent,” Nightwing grinned. He slapped Jason on the back. “Let the awesome Nightwing-Red Hood team-up commence!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** This is a reference to Batman #617-618, when Clayface impersonated adult Jason Todd in a Hush story. Because this is an alternate universe, the details of that exchange have been slightly altered.  
> ***** This is a reference to a different Batman comic, from before Jason’s death—I couldn’t find the issue number, but Batman is dating Catwoman and Jason is upset about it. He says something like “nuts! lousy algebra!” and when Alfred tries to help him he’s got some kind of line about “my problem has nothing to do with numbers—unless you wanna count two minus one!” You know, because they're ignoring him? I just think its hilarious. You can probably find the specific panel on google images without too much trouble. Anyway, again, that has been edited for use in my alternate universe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: Jason remembers his death in this one. Broken bones, blood, I mean, the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar so...watch out for that.

“Okay,” Nightwing said, unfurling the map. He and Jason stood at the edge of Gotham Park. “Poison Ivy said our assignment is examining the harbor, and Batman said he thinks there might be Joker activity somewhere down there too…but where to start…?” Nightwing held the map sideways, trying to get a better look at it.

“Docks,” Jason said. “Um. The Docks.”

“Sure,” Nightwing shrugged. “That’s as good a spot as any, I guess. Any particular reason why?”

“When Harley and I blew up one of the Joker’s warehouses a few days ago, we—“

“Wait, that was _you?”_ Nightwing laughed. “And here _I_ thought you were _new_ on the scene, just because I didn’t recognize you. How long have you been active?”

“Really,” Jason blanched, “um, not that long. I’m new.”

“I’m surprised no one’s put you in a domino mask,” Nightwing shook his head. “It’s trad—“

“It’s tradition,” Jason grumbled bitterly. “I’ve heard.”

“Well, okay then,” Nightwing said, turning back to the map. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“There were boxes and stuff all over the warehouse, like the Joker was packing up and moving out,” Jason continued. “A bunch of them were going to the docks.”

“Just ‘the docks’ is a pretty wide target, but it’s a great place to start,” Nightwing said. He folded up the map and stuck it in the bag with Ivy’s collecting equipment. “How are we doing this? Do you have a grappling hook or something?”

“What?” Jason asked.

“You know,” Nightwing said. “How do you get around?”

“Walking,” Jason said flatly.

“We can do better than _that,_ ” Nightwing said. “I’ll signal the Bat-cave for a Bat-mobile, and we’ll—“

“Walking is fine,” Jason said. As willing as Ivy had been to take a ride in the Bat-mobile, Jason wouldn’t be caught _dead_ in that claustrophobia-inducing thing. “Walking is _better,_ because…because… um, we’ll spot the plants more easily.”

“Walking it is,” said Nightwing, who promptly crouched, leapt into the air in a standing backflip, and landed atop the wall lining Gotham Park. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and held out his hand towards Jason. “Ready, Red Hood?”

“I can’t do that,” Jason said. “I meant _walking._ You know, with both feet on the ground? Maybe you’ve never heard of it, circus boy,” Jason rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“I get it, message loud and clear, we’ll walk on the sidewalks,” Nightwing jumped back down. “Huh. That’s funny.”

“What?” Jason grumbled. “That some of us can’t do weird acrobatics shit?”

“No, I just…” Nightwing sighed. “There was this kid I used to know, and he used to call me circus boy.”

“…Oh,” Jason said. He had the funny feeling they were talking about _him,_ which did not bode well for the mission.

“Yeah,” Nightwing shrugged. “He was a good kid.”

They walked to the park gate and exited onto the sidewalks.

“…What happened to him?” Jason asked.

“Hm? Oh, he died,” Nightwing said sadly. “It was a few years ago. He wasn’t much older than you.”

“I’m…sorry?” Jason offered. What were you even supposed to say in this situation?

“Thank you,” Nightwing said. “You should be careful, you know? Not everyone is as careful around kids as Batman is.”

“If Batman’s so _careful,_ then how—“ Jason stopped himself before he could ask.

“What was that?” Nightwing asked.

“Nothing,” Jason coughed.

“Okay, I know you said walking, but the docks are kind of far away,” Nightwing said, squinting down the street. “How would you feel about taking the bus?”

“Fine, I guess,” Jason shrugged.

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“This isn’t what I meant,” Jason hissed, clinging to the top of the bus.

“I do this all the time, you’ll be fine,” Nightwing smiled, standing at the front of the bus like he was on the Titanic.

“You nearly ripped my arm out of my shoulder pulling me up here,” Jason grumbled.

“But I didn’t, did I?” Nightwing said. “Trust me, I know how to throw someone safely.”

“Circus boy,” Jason mumbled to himself.

“It’s only a few stops,” Nightwing said, sitting down next to Jason and holding the bag in his lap. “We’ll be there in no time.”

“Is this legal?” Jason asked. “Shouldn’t we have paid for tickets?”

“We did,” Nightwing said. “I’ve…well, this is embarrassing. Can you keep a secret?”

“What is it?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve…got a bus pass,” Nightwing flushed. “And the drivers pretty much know me by now, so. They’re cool with me sitting up here. But really, don’t mention this to Batman, if you don’t mind.”

“Why not?” Jason crinkled his nose.

“You’re asking why I wouldn’t want you to tell the owner of eight varieties of Bat-mobile that I take the bus?” Nightwing said. “Either he designs a couple of Nightwing-mobiles that I gotta drive around to be polite, or he pumps the public transport system so full of money it might as well _be_ a Nightwing-mobile.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jason sat up just a little bit more, and wrapped his arms around his legs. “I’d tell Batman about _all_ of my problems. There’s nothing money can’t fix.”

“In that case, all you have to do is give up on being Poison Ivy’s sidekick and apply for the next available position as Robin,” Nightwing said.

“I’m _nobody’s_ sidekick,” Jason said. “…Do Robin opportunities come up often?”

“They don’t, actually,” Nightwing said. “But if you’re new on the Gotham scene, I’m sure the Batman Family could find room for a Red Hood, if you were looking to change sides.”

“Change sides?” Jason frowned.

“Yeah, you know, be a good guy instead,” Nightwing said.

Jason was about to protest that he _was_ a good guy, but when he thought it over, between the thefts, explosions, and break-ins, he could understand why Nightwing had assumed he wasn’t. Maybe Nightwing was even right about that.

“Batman wouldn’t want _me,”_ Jason let out a sharp laugh. “I can see why he wanted you, with the backflips and the acrobatics and stuff, but all I’ve got is a crowbar.”

“Are you any good with it?” Nightwing asked.

“Um, yeah, why?” Jason asked, putting his hand on the end of it.

“No reason,” Nightwing relaxed back against the roof of the bus, hands behind his head. “You’re probably right, Batman would have to train you. He’s more of a fist-fight kind of guy.”

“What are you?” Jason asked.

“I’ve got escrima sticks,” Nightwing said, pulling one out of a pocket and twirling it around. “A little less brutal than a crowbar, but they still give me the power I need to knock somebody out with a good hit.”

“…Can I see?” Jason asked tentatively.

Nightwing looked at him weirdly for a minute, like he was trying to figure something out. “Sure,” he said, passing the stick over. “Just be careful, and don’t push any of the buttons. That one triggers an electric blast, and you don’t have the gloves to handle it.”

“Cool,” Jason whispered, feeling over the smoothness of the stick. It had a little Nightwing logo on it, and the unlabeled buttons were set right into the side, perfect for someone who knew their own tools, and the downfall of anyone who’d try messing with it. “It totally beats a crowbar,” Jason said, handing it back.

“I guess it does,” Nightwing laughed. “But I wouldn’t use one of my escrima sticks to break a lock, would I?”

“That’s my job,” Jason said. He pulled out the crowbar and swooshed it around like a sword. “Boom! Pow! Woah!!!” He slipped to the side as the bus went around a corner, but Nightwing caught his arm and helped him hold on. “Thanks,” Jason said sheepishly.

“I’m just excited to see how you handle that thing when you’ve got your balance,” Nightwing said, approvingly. “I’m surprised you let me get away with warning you about being careful…you can really defend yourself with that. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Jason said proudly, clutching the crowbar a little tighter. “I, um. Thanks.”

“We’re almost to our stop,” Nightwing peered off the front of the bus. Gotham Harbor was now clearly visible as the street began to slant down towards it. “We can check out some suspicious spots on the docks once we get down there.”

“Let the awesome Nightwing-Red Hood team-up commence!” Jason said sarcastically, feigning excitement.

“As Kite Man would say, _hell yeah_ ,” Nightwing grinned back at him.

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“Wait, wait, _stop,_ what are you doing?” Jason crossed his arms.

After they got off the bus, they did a lap around the Gotham Ferry Building, looking for any of the flowers, before making their way in the direction Batman had traced Joker activity. They wandered down the harbor for about 20 minutes before finding a few of the distinctive daisy-clover plants along the sidewalk.

“I’m collecting samples,” Nightwing said. He was crouched over one of the plants with a flat, folding piece of metal.

“What? How?” Jason held up the trowel and a tupperware to put the plants in.

“I’m pressing it,” Nightwing said. “You fold the flat piece here around the plant, and then you—“

“Okay, I’m going to stop you there, don’t do whatever _that_ is,” Jason sighed.

“But this is how Batman collects samples,” Nightwing said. “I’m following protocol, I guarantee it.”

“Batman collected a bunch of dead leaves that aren’t any use to _anyone,_ ” Jason scoffed. “We’re collecting samples for _Ivy._ Didn’t you listen when she told you how?”

“I guess not,” Nightwing raised his eyebrows. “Please, go ahead.” He stood and gestured to the plant, and tucked the presser back into a pocket on his belt.

“You want to get as many intact roots as you can,” Jason said. He put on the gloves and began working with the trowel, gently in a little circle around the plant. “They grab onto the soil, which is good, because they’ll still be alive when we get them back.”

“What does Poison Ivy do with them?” Nightwing asked.

“I dunno,” Jason shrugged, gently scooping up the little dirt pile with the flower right in the middle. “She’s got a bunch of experiment soils to replant them in, and I know she’s trying to learn to grow them.”

“Maybe I could take a few pressings back to the Bat Cave, and we can let the Bat computer try to analyze them,” Nightwing said.

“Then go find your _own_ samples,” Jason grunted, placing the plant gently into the tupperware. “This is Ivy’s mission, not Batman’s.”

“This is a team effort,” Nightwing reminded him. “We’re supposed to be working together.”

“We wouldn’t _be_ working together if Batman had _any_ idea how to analyze these plants,” Jason grumbled. “The only reason he went to Ivy for help is because he _needs_ it. Batman works alone, everybody knows that.”

“Batman has a whole team of people who help him, and he’s worked with his rogues before,” Nightwing said. “He’s got a reputation as a loner, but what about Batman and Robin? It’s a classic duo. Batman never works alone.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, tucking the plant box into the bag. “Fine. Collect your stupid samples. See if I care that you won’t get anything useful out of them.”

Nightwing looked at Jason for a few moments, then held up his hands. “I can get pressings on patrol. Lead the way, Red Hood. What now?”

“Um,” Jason looked around. “These plants can only grow where the Joker chemicals are strong enough to wipe out everything else, so I guess…” He paused for a moment, thinking. “It’s like a mushroom ring. We need to find the edge.”

“A fairy ring?” Nightwing asked. “Just so we’re clear, we’re not talking about actual magic, right? And don’t give me any sarcastic one-liners, I’ve dealt with magic enough times before to know to be careful about it.”

“It’s not magic,” Jason said. “Wait, magic is real?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t really matter right now,” Nightwing said. “What were you saying?”

“Okay, um,” Jason screwed up his forehead in concentration, trying to figure out how to explain this. Ivy had done a really good job, if he could just remember what she’d said. “Mushrooms form in circles like that because the mushroom isn’t the whole fungus, it’s just the part that reproduces. The fungus is all underground, taking up the entire circle, and you can tell how big it is from how big the mushroom ring is. Somewhere there’s a vat of Joker chemicals leaking, and the chemicals have spread here, so there’s a flower here. If we can find the edges of the flower’s range, wherever it stops growing is where the chemicals stop.”

“And then we can use that data to figure out the source of the chemicals,” Nightwing said. “I like it. So we need to fan out until we can track the specific outline of the flowers’ range?”

“Yep,” Jason said. “Oh! But we have to be careful, because before they grow flowers they’re really hard to spot. They look a little like clover, but the shape is wrong. Ivy calls them daisy-clovers, sometimes.”

“Daisy-clover flowers,” Nightwing said. “It’s…not a _great_ name for a plant.”

“That’s what _I_ said!” Jason gestured wildly. “I said we had to name them before—well…”

“Before Batman decided to call them ‘Bat-Flowers’ or something like that?” Nightwing laughed.

“Yeah!” Jason laughed. “But Ivy said we can’t give them a scientific name until we know more about them.”

“Maybe we could team-up and give them a good name together?” Nightwing offered.

“Um, I’m no good at picking names,” Jason fidgeted awkwardly. “That’s how I ended up as Red Hood, Batman asked and I just…panicked.”

“That’s okay,” Nightwing said. “I think Red Hood is a pretty cool name.”

“You do?” Jason’s voice cracked. He coughed and tried again. “I mean, you do?” That time, it came out too weirdly deep. Jason wanted to kick himself.

“Yeah, it sounds tough,” Nightwing said. “Like, Bam! Pow! Red Hood!”

“You’re making fun of me,” Jason crossed his arms angrily.

“No, I’m not, I promise!” Nightwing smiled. “It’s a good name.”

“Well…thank you,” Jason said.

“We should probably talk about what we’re gonna call these flowers, though,” Nightwing said. “They’ve got anti-Joker properties, we could call them…Joker flowers? Jokers?”

“No way,” Jason shook his head. “That makes it sound like they belong to him. How about…harbor…flowers, harbor flowers? No, that’s dumb…”

“Gotham Flowers,” Nightwing said.

“Gotham Yellow-Whites,” Jason said.

“Gotham’s Tears,” Nightwing said dramatically.

“Um, Gotham Daisy-Clovers,” Jason said.

“Gotham’s Hearts,” Nightwing clenched his fist over his chest.

“Stop being weird,” Jason groaned. “Gotham…Gotham’s Protectors? Gotham’s…”

“Gotham’s Hood?” Nightwing said. “You’re the one putting in the work to study them…I mean, I guess that’s Poison Ivy doing the studying, but you’re the one out in the field collecting samples and thinking up names. We should name them after you.”

“Gotham’s Hood sounds weird,” Jason crinkled his nose.

“Yellow Hood?” Nightwing said. “Instead of Red Hood. Because the flowers are yellow…but they’re also white sometimes, so that doesn’t work.”

“Jay’s Flowers,” Jason said proudly, then realized what he’d done. “I mean…um—“

“Jay,” Nightwing said. “I’ll, uh. Assume it’s an initial, and you didn’t just blurt out your secret identity.”

“I don’t have a secret identity,” Jason said.

“Exactly, that’s why you don’t wear a mask concealing your whole face,” Nightwing said.

“…Fair point,” Jason admitted. “But we should probably call them something else—“

“We just picked a common name, what’s the harm?” Nightwing shrugged. “We’ll tell everyone we saw a blue jay and I picked the name. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Why?” Jason asked suspiciously. “You don’t even know me, why would you try and…I mean, I know I’m new at secret identity stuff, but you don’t have to…I mean—“

“It’s okay,” Nightwing said. “It’s kind of like I said before, I guess. You remind me of a kid I used to know, and, well. His name started with ‘J’ too, and…it would be nice to honor him like that.”

“…What a coincidence,” Jason said drily. “But it’s not a great name for a plant. It sounds like a bird.”

“Well, what do we call them, then?” Nightwing asked.

Jason still kind of wanted to name them after himself. He _was_ the one putting in the field work to study them. But you can’t just name a flower after a person, everyone knows that. Red Hood Flowers didn’t make any sense _and_ it sounded dumb, so maybe…something like Zombie Flowers? Undead Flowers? He wasn’t really either of those things, he was more like…

“Ghost Flowers,” Jason said. “Because they’re pale, and…stuff.”

“I like it,” Nightwing plucked one out of the ground, pondering it. “How’d you think of it?”

“…It just came to me,” Jason said.

“I guess we should start looking for more Ghosts, then,” Nightwing said. “Ghosts, Ghost Flowers… I really like it. I think it’ll catch on.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, and he was surprised by how much he meant it.

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“This bag was a lot lighter before we had to fill it with dirt,” Nightwing grunted, lifting it up on his shoulders. “We’re never gonna be able to get this _and_ us onto a bus.”

“We can just ride the bus like regular people, you know,” Jason suggested. “Inside. Not on the roof. You know, the way _any normal person would ride a bus.”_

“We might have to,” Nightwing readjusted the bag. “Ugh. This is heavy. Are you sure you don’t want to call for a Bat-mobile, or—“

“I’m sure,” Jason cut him off.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why not?” Nightwing asked, setting the bag back down on the ground at the bus station. He swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand.

“It’s just…” Jason wasn’t sure how to explain it without sounding like a crazy person. “I know everyone _says_ Batman is careful around kids, and he doesn’t beat you up unless you deserve it, or whatever, but…um.” Jason swallowed awkwardly.

“I get it,” Nightwing shook his head. “You’re scared of him.”

“I’m not,” Jason insisted. “I just—“

“I really do get it, though,” Nightwing said. “He’s just really big, and you’re small. He’s all of this…armor, and gadgets, and fists, and you—“

“I’m not small,” Jason spat angrily.

“I used to be,” Nightwing shrugged. “He’s scary at first, that’s the whole point of the suit. Once you get to know him, he’s pretty okay, but again. The whole point of the suit if that you don’t.”

“How’d you get to know him, then?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Used to be a Robin,” Nightwing said. “I know, I know, a lot of people don’t realize there was more than one, but—“

“No, I knew that,” Jason said.

“Oh. Really? Okay then,” Nightwing said. The bus pulled to a stop in front of them. The door opened. “Hey, would you mind giving us a second to get onto the roof?” Nightwing asked the driver. “It’s just that this bag is really heavy, and I—“

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“This is why I don’t like to ride the bus,” Nightwing grumbled. There was a small gaggle of girls a few rows away, giggling and taking photos. Nightwing groaned and shrunk down in his seat, hand over his eyes. “Batgirl is never gonna let me live this down.”

“Um. Thanks,” Jason said, nudging him in the shoulder with his own shoulder.

“For what?” Nightwing asked.

“You didn’t tell me to suck it up and get over it. You didn’t call a Bat-mobile, you got on the bus with me,” Jason said.

“Well, we started this mission as a team, and we’re ending it that way,” Nightwing said. Jason held out his hand for a fist bump. Nightwing bumped. The girls screeched a few rows away.

“I’m kind of jealous of your helmet,” Nightwing said. “It would be really nice to not get recognized right now.”

“Tough luck,” Jason shrugged. “One day I’ll make a name for myself, and then everyone will want pictures of Red Hood, too.”

“Hey, Nightwing,” said some guy with gel in his hair. “Can I get your number? You can be in _my_ wings _any_ night.”

“Can you believe it? He’s riding _our_ bus!!!” One of the girls said.

“Ugh,” Nightwing sighed.

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“You got it?” Nightwing held his arms protectively over the bag.

“Yeah, I got it,” Jason said. “I won’t drop it.”

“Okay,” Nightwing said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I guess I’ll…see you around?”

“Um,” Jason looked back into Ivy’s house, where Harley was giving him two thumbs up just out of Nightwing’s view. “Do you want…to come in?” Harley mimed drinking a cup of water. “And have something to drink, or something?” Jason finished awkwardly.

“Oh, uh. Sure,” Nightwing said. Jason kicked the door all the way open and led Nightwing inside.

“How was your mission?” Harley asked.

“Fine,” Jason grunted and shifted the bag higher up in his arms. “I’ll just…bring the samples to Ivy.”

“Something to drink? Water, juice? We’ve got snacks, do you want anything?” Harley offered to Nightwing.

“Um, sure?” Nightwing said. “Some water would be great, thanks.”

“Ivy said I’m supposed to make you feel welcome so you don’t try to break in through the roof anymore,” Harley said.

“Ohhhhh, _now_ this makes sense,” Nightwing shook his head.

Jason had to set the bag down to open the door to the greenhouse, then it was too big to go in length-wise and he had to crab-walk through the door.

“Excellent,” Ivy said, taking the bag from him. “You filled the bag? Great work, this’ll be perfect.”

“And I’ve got the map, too,” Jason pulled the crumpled map out of his pocket. “Nightwing and I traced the edges of the colony by the docks.”

“Oh, I don’t need that,” Ivy said, opening up the bag. “You give it back to Nightwing, Batman is the one who’s supposed to track down the source.”

“Okay,” Jason said.

“What’s this?” Ivy asked, pulling out one of the tupperware. “Why is it labelled _Ghost Flowers_?”

“We named them,” Jason shrugged. “They needed a name, we can’t just keep calling them _plants._ There’s all kinds of plants.”

“And you named it…Ghost,” Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“Um, yeah,” Jason flushed. “Nightwing helped. We almost called them the Jays—but, um because there was a blue jay, and he said it fit the wings theme for the Bat Family.”

“Bat Family?” Ivy asked.

“Yeah, that’s, um, what they call themselves,” Jason shrugged. “Batman and all the Robins and Nightwing and Batgirl, and stuff.”

“Including you,” Ivy said.

“Yeah, inclu—wait, what?” Jason asked.

“Jason…” Ivy sighed. She set the Ghosts down on the table. “You’ll always be welcome here, but maybe this isn’t where you belong. Batman—“

“You said I could stay until I got my memories back,” Jason blurted. “You _said_ so. You promised!”

“I did,” Ivy said. “But when you do get your memories back…you won’t _want_ to stay. I just want to be ready for that.”

“Of _course_ I’ll want to stay,” Jason said. “And what if they never come back?”

“I hope you _do_ get it all back,” Ivy said. “You’ve got 16 years of memories, friendships, training with Batman—“

“Maybe I don’t _want_ any of that!” Jason said. “And if I can’t remember it, it doesn’t matter, anyway! What’s the point of this?”

“You just…looked happy, after you came back from that mission,” Ivy said. “Harley said Nightwing used to do patrols with the second Robin all the time.”

“I don’t _remember_ any of that,” Jason snapped. “And I’m _not_ happier with him. I’m happy _here.”_

“I know you are,” Ivy said. “I just—“

“Whatever,” Jason said. He stomped out of the greenhouse and into the kitchen. “Here,” he said, shoving the map at Nightwing. “Give this to your Bat-computer and track the source of the chemicals.”

“Are you okay?” Harley asked.

“I’m _fine,_ ” Jason said through gritted teeth. “It was great working with you, Nightwing. Bye.” Jason stomped into the guest room and slammed the door. He could hear muffled voices behind the door as Harley and Nightwing said something to each other. Jason ripped the helmet off of his head, and threw it into the wall, where it left a dent. He wanted to scream. Was everything in the world _fragile_ just like the stupid wall? This was exactly why you should never have anyone watching your back, because it makes you too lazy to look out for yourself. Jason didn’t _need_ Ivy making dinner for him every night, and he didn’t _need_ Harley’s advice on ethical thievery, and he _really_ didn’t need Batman or Nightwing or anyone else for a partner on missions. He’d show them, he’d ask Ivy for his _own_ mission assignment, and he’d…but that would involve talking to Ivy, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that right now.

She’d been really nice to him. She really acted like she cared. But it seemed like she wanted him to get out of the house, and if he chose to leave on his own, she wouldn’t have to kick him out. Maybe he _would_ leave, see how she liked that. But running away didn’t exactly work the last time he tried it…but he’d been on a few missions since then, he knew his way around the city, a little bit, he’d be able to find somewhere to sleep.

If she really cared about him, she wouldn’t be trying to hand him off to Batman. Whatever the “I don’t want you to leave, I want _you_ to _want_ to leave” thing was, he didn’t want any part of it. But, on the other hand, if she really didn’t care, she wouldn’t care if he got his memories back, and it did seem like…

Jason put his fists in his hair and twisted, trying to focus on anything other than the thoughts swirling around his head.

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“You should go, I gotta deal with whatever _that’s_ about,” Harley sighed, shoving Nightwing towards the door.

“Tell Poison Ivy I’ll be back tomorrow for another assignment,” Nightwing waved. Harley closed the door on him, then marched into the greenhouse and grabbed Ivy by the shoulders.

“Okay,” Harley said. “Babe. What did you say to Jason?”

“Nothing,” Ivy said sullenly.

“He came home happy with how the mission went, like, excited enough to actually invite someone in, but right after he brought you the samples, he stomped into his room and hasn’t come back out,” Harley frowned. “Babe. I love you, but what did you say to our son?”

“He’s not our son,” Ivy said. “And it would be better if _you’d_ remember that too. He’s not some random kid we adopted, he’s a _Robin.”_

“Yeah, I know he’s a Robin, but he’s _our_ Robin,” Harley said. “He’s Jason!”

“He belongs on Batman’s team, not mine,” Ivy said sadly. “You _saw_ how happy he was when he got back today. What are we even doing, keeping him here?”

“We’re doing exactly what he asked,” Harley said. “He wants to be here, he keeps telling you.”

“But he shouldn’t want that,” Ivy said. “Don’t you understand? For all we know, he’s a memory or two away from trying to arrest us.”

“But…he’s not getting his memories back, at least not that fast,” Harley bit her lip. “And he wants to be here _now,_ doesn’t that count for anything?”

“I wish we hadn’t promised to keep who he is a secret,” Ivy sighed. “I bet Batman would have a better idea of how to fix his memory, too. Jason would be happier if he wasn’t with us.”

“Don’t say that,” Harley said. “Don’t try and speak for him, just ask him what he wants.”

“He doesn’t _belong_ here,” Ivy said. “He’s a hero, and we’re villains.”

“We’re just people, Ivy, you don’t really believe the labels the newspaper hands out, right?” Harley rolled her eyes. “Jason _knows_ he could live in Wayne Manor and work with Batman again just for the asking. He’s asking to stay here with us, instead.”

“Maybe we’re not good enough for him,” Ivy said. “Maybe he deserves better.”

“Maybe that doesn’t matter,” Harley shrugged.

“Maybe it does,” Ivy said, turning back to her experiments.

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Everything was so _clear._ It all made sense now. Jason had realized what was really going on.

Ivy was having difficulties with analyzing the Ghosts, and she knew she was going to have to team up with Batman to do it. She needed insurance that Batman wouldn’t be able to arrest her during or after the team up, and when she found Jason, it was the perfect solution. She knew who he was immediately of course, and took him home as a hostage. Since then, she’d been _suppressing his memories,_ somehow, with pheromones or something? So he wouldn’t get too excited and blow his cover to Batman at the wrong time. She was just waiting for Batman to try something fishy, and then she’d sweep in, remove Jason’s mask, and offer him up in exchange to escape her arrest. The only question now was whether or not Jason was going to let her get away with it.

The knock at his door snapped him back to awareness.“Hey, buddy.” It was Harley. “How’s it going in there?”

“Fine,” Jason coughed.

“Can I come in?” Harley asked.

“Why not?” Jason growled. Obviously, she needed to make sure their _hostage_ wasn’t getting too restless.

Harley opened the door just a crack and stepped inside. “I’m sorry about Ivy. She didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. She’s just…well…”

“She didn’t hurt my feelings,” Jason said, crossing his arms.

“She’s worried we’re a bad influence on you,” Harley said, sitting down next to him on the bed. “She thinks since you’re a hero, you’d be happier with Batman than here.”

“And is that what _you_ think?” Jason spat.

“I think _you_ know best what you want,” Harley said.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Jason sagged into the bed. “It never did.”

“Of course it does,” Harley said, hugging him. Jason leaned into the hug, and suddenly realized he was being ridiculous. He wasn’t a hostage. You don’t buy your hostage frozen yogurt and invite him to movie night. They really did care about him. He felt like an idiot. He felt like maybe there was something _really_ wrong in his brain, something more than memory problems, something that was making him think the unthinkable.

“What am I supposed to do?” Jason asked, his face still buried in Harley’s shoulder.

“You could help me order takeout, if you want,” Harley said, giving him a little reassuring squeeze. “And then…anything, I guess. You just take it one day at a time, doing whatever you think is best.”

“I should keep going on missions with the Bats,” Jason pulled away and scrubbed at his eyes with his arm. “But I don’t want to _be_ one of them or anything. I like being here, and being Red Hood. I still don’t want them knowing who I used to be.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Harley shrugged.

“You shouldn’t just… _agree_ with whatever I say,” Jason said. “I’ve probably got brain damage or something, that’s why I don’t have memories and can’t…think straight.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Harley said, holding up both hands. “The second you try to hurt yourself or someone else, I’m getting involved.”

“Wait,” Jason frowned. “Does that include the vigilante-related fighting, or—“

“Obviously it doesn’t include the vigilante-related fighting,” Harley waved a hand. “You’ve got blanket permission for self-defense and vigilante-related violence.”

Jason considered this. “That doesn’t make any—“

“Anyway, let’s order takeout!” Harley bounced up. “I’m thinking Chinese food, what about you?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jason smiled. “That sounds good.”

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Long after Jason and Ivy had gone to bed, Harley received a text: _I’m outside. Ready?_

Harley threw on a jacket, grabbed her baseball bat, and locked the door behind her. Batgirl was waiting outside next to her motorcycle.

“Do I smell Chinese food?” Batgirl sniffed.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, but Ivy might actually kill me if I let you eat them,” Harley said.

“Did you get from that good place by the zoo? I’d kill for that too,” Batgirl laughed. “Sorry we had to do this so late, but it was easier on my schedule to lump this mission in with my usual patrol.”

“It’s no problem,” Harley shrugged. “I’ll sleep in tomorrow, it’ll all even out.”

“Just be sure you’re quiet when you get back,” Batgirl said. “I heard Nightwing had some trouble with Ivy’s guard dogs?”

“If you come in the roof, you _know_ there might be risks involved with that,” Harley said. “He warned you to use the front door?”

“Notice how I waited _outside_ for you,” Batgirl smiled. “What are we doing tonight?”

“More plant data,” Harley said. “I’m supposed to follow you and make notes wherever we find the Ghosts. Ivy said your patrol route covers a good chunk of the unmapped parts of the city. I bring back general data about where the plants are, then tomorrow, the boys are gathering specifics to track down sources of Joker chemicals.”

“The boys,” Batgirl did air quotes. “You better watch out, or next thing you know, Batman’s going to adopt your sidekick out from under you. Does Red Hood have black hair, by any chance?”

“Har dee har,” Harley rolled her eyes.

“Where did you even find him, anyway?” Batgirl asked. “Not that I think Batman has to have a monopoly on conscripting children to fight crime, but I didn’t think you and Ivy were the types to pick up a sidekick.”

“It’s a long story,” Harley said. “And it’s not mine to tell. You’re welcome to ask him yourself, sometime.”

“Maybe I will. Does he come to movie night?” Batgirl raised an eyebrow.

“He was there last week, but where were you?” Harley crossed her arms.

“Volunteering with the support group, Harley. First Tuesday of every month, it shouldn’t be a surprise at this point,” Batgirl said.

“Oh yeah,” Harley frowned. “And how come we never changed movie night to fit your schedule?”

“Because I’m _always_ busy, Harley, you’d _never_ have movie night if I had to be at every one. You remember what happened to the DND group the Riddler tried to start.”

“May my gnome barbarian rest in peace,” Harley held up one fist. “Yeah, fair point.”

“You’re following me on patrol, then?” Batgirl revved the engine on her motorcycle. “Can you keep up?” she smirked.

“What! No, I can’t!” Harley moaned. “Really? Don’t do this to me, come on.”

“Don’t worry,” Batgirl laughed. She turned the motorcycle in a small circle so Harley could see the attachment. “Sidecar!”

“You secretly hate me,” Harley grumbled. She climbed in and grabbed onto the sides. “This is abuse.”

“Come on, you love the sidecar!” Batgirl laughed, and they drove off into the night.

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Jason was dreaming again. He was a hero, tall and proud in a domino mask. He was in the desert, outside a large building, with a woman he didn’t recognize. He held her hands in his. “It’s gonna be okay, Mom,” Jason said. “Batman will be back soon. We’ll get you back to Gotham, safe and sound.”

“…Thank you, Jason,” she smiled tightly. “That means a lot.”

“I’ll keep you safe from _anything,_ ” Jason said, gripping her hands tightly. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Let me just get a few of my things, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jason said.

“Yes…I suppose you will,” the woman sighed. She led him around the wall to the massive door of the building, and opened it. Jason peered inside, but all he could see was an inky blackness.

“Where’s the light switch?” Jason asked. He took a few steps inside, and then the lights clicked on. Jason blinked a few times, and opened his eyes to realize he was surrounded by the Joker’s gang. “Mom, _run!”_ Jason yelled. There was no time to reach for a weapon, they were already on him. He kicked and scratched and bit and fought as hard as he could, but there were too many of them, and soon enough he found himself forced to his knees, arms held behind his back, staring up at the Joker’s smiling face. He could only hope he’d been a good enough distraction that his mom could escape. He could taste blood in his mouth.

“Joker,” Jason growled. “You’ll never get away with this.”

“Why, Ms. Haywood!” the Joker beamed, completely ignoring Jason. “I was starting to worry you didn’t really like me, but look at this! You brought me a gift!”

“Stop it,” Jason’s mom said quietly. “You’ve got the Joker venom you wanted, and you’ve got the Batman’s little sneak. Are you happy?”

“I’m _always_ happy!” The Joker laughed, then frowned. “Or is it that I’m _never_ happy? You know, I can’t even remember!” He laughed wildly, and Jason stared at his mom.

“Mom,” he whispered. He could feel his split lip already starting to swell up. He struggled, but the men holding him down were too strong.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” she said. She didn’t even look at him, as if she physically couldn’t force herself to. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, but it has to be this way.”

“I should try blackmail more often, I never realized it could be so much _fun!”_ The Joker grinned. He snapped his fingers once, and thugs were suddenly standing behind Jason’s mom, holding her, too. “But I’m afraid I _won’t_ be letting you go, either. You know too much about my plans.”

“I should’ve expected this,” Jason’s mom said angrily, but she couldn’t break free either.

“It’ll be okay, mom!” Jason yelled, despite himself. “I’ll get you out of this! I’ve been in worse situations before.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” the Joker said, turning to look at Jason as if for the first time. He stepped closer and crouched, taking Jason’s chin in one hand. He turned Jason’s head left, right, up, and down, examining his face. His breath was horrible and rancid, but Jason didn’t flinch, and he didn’t look away. Jason lunged forward, hoping for a surprise attack, but the goons holding him in place didn’t give way. Jason tugged as hard as he could, but he couldn’t get free. “Woah!” the Joker laughed, stepping back. “Feisty, aren’t we?”

There was a plan for this, Jason knew. Batman planned for every situation, and there was a plan in place for a Robin getting taken hostage. Jason didn’t even need to trigger his tracker, it was already turned on so Batman could find his way back after he was done scouting. Even before getting captured, Jason had expected Batman would be coming back in a half hour, maybe less. That was hardly any time at all to wait. Jason could handle this. He could handle anything. Batman would free him, they’d both give Joker a good clock on the jaw, and next thing you know, they’d be taking him back to Arkham, no harm to anybody.

“Do you want to hear a joke, Ms. Haywood?” the Joker said. He reached into a toolbox and pulled out a crowbar. “It’s a really good one, I promise.”

“W-w-what is it?” Jason’s mom was shaking, but Jason wouldn’t falter. Batman was coming for him, and Jason was going to be brave and prove he was worth it.

“It goes like this: what happens to a Robin that falls out of the nest?” the Joker twirled the crowbar in one hand. There was silence in the warehouse for a few moments. “Nothing?” the Joker grinned. “No one has a guess?” his words echoed off the walls, bouncing around. “That’s no worry. I’ll just give you all a demonstration!”

The Joker walked up to Jason and beat him in the right ear with the crowbar. Jason felt the impact only indirectly: before, he was on his knees, upright, and he could hear. After, he was crumped on the floor, and there was something wet and warm on his face, and he couldn’t hear anything on one side, just fuzzy sounds. But the arms holding him back were gone, which meant he was ready to fight. Jason put one hand under himself to lift up and roll out of the way, when another hit came down of the back of his head and the world _broke._ He felt it in his bones, and it felt tingly. He tried to move away, roll, tuck, dodge, do _something,_ but his body wouldn’t respond. It was like trying to move through jelly. The Joker said something, and his laugh was recognizable enough even if Jason couldn’t make out the words. The crowbar came down again, and again, and again, and the only thing Jason could hear were soft cracking sounds that he couldn’t identify. Jason started to worry he wasn’t going to be able to save his mom. He certainly couldn’t do it in this state. For one terrible moment, Jason worried Batman wasn’t going to be there in time. For one horrible, eternal moment, Jason worried he wasn’t going to make it out of this at all. Then he felt another blow on the back of his head, and everything kind of stopped mattering.

He was maneuvered onto a chair, tied back to back with a woman he didn’t recognize. But he knew it was his mom. “It’ll be okay,” Jason slurred, and it didn’t come out right because his mouth wasn’t working, and he wasn’t sure he had all his teeth anymore. The taste of blood was overwhelming. Jason focused on it, desperate to stay awake. “I’ll save you, mom,” Jason said. “I’ll get you out of here.” Someone was talking, but Jason didn’t know who, and he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his own heartbeat. He couldn’t hear anything until a loud _boom_ went off right next to his ear, and then suddenly it was hot, _too hot,_ and then he couldn’t feel anything at all, and then he woke up and _screamed._

He knew where he was. He wasn’t in a desert warehouse explosion somewhere, he was in Ivy’s house. In his own bed. Safe. So he should probably stop screaming before he woke someone up, but he couldn’t do it, so he crammed a pillow over his face to muffle the sound until he finally ran out of breath. When he pulled the pillow away, it was wet, and for a moment he thought it was his blood, but it was just tears.

He rubbed his hand on the back of his head, feeling the scar tissue. He ran his tongue over his teeth, making sure they were all still there. He massaged feeling into his arms, making sure he wasn’t broken anywhere. He was fine. He’d just had a nightmare. He shivered.

He wasn’t getting back to sleep that night.

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“Yeah, you’re done for the night,” Batgirl said. “Don’t forget your phone.”

“I didn’t forget anything,” Harley yawned and clambered out of the sidecar.

“I can _see_ it right there on the seat,” Batgirl said.

“That’s not proof I forgot it,” Harley grabbed her phone and shoved it into a pocket. “I was gonna grab it. See you at next movie night?”

“I’ll be there,” Batgirl gave a little salute and drove off into the early morning.

Harley yawned and fumbled with her keys until she found the right one to let her back into Ivy’s house. She quietly put her stuff down by the door, and tiptoed towards her room, when she heard the sound of running water. The bathroom light was on, and the door was open. She peeked inside. Jason was washing his face in the sink.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Harley whispered. Jason startled and hit his head on the faucet.

“Ow,” he mumbled, pulling himself upright. “No, you didn’t.”

“What’s up?” Harley asked. “Feeling okay?”

“Just had a nightmare,” Jason said, then closed his mouth too quickly like he hadn’t meant to say anything.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harley offered.

“No,” Jason said quickly, then appeared to think better of it. “It was just a falling dream. No big deal.”

“You must have crazy dreams,” Harley said. “I mean, between the being alive again, and your brain trying to knit your memories back together—“

“I have normal dreams, like everyone has,” Jason said angrily.

“If you ever wanna talk—“ Harley said.

“Yes, thank you,” Jason cut her off, clearly not in the mood to talk right then. “I know. But I’m fine.”

“Try and get some sleep if you can,” Harley yawned. “I gotta hit the hay myself.”

“Yeah,” Jason rubbed his eyes with his fists. “I’ll get some sleep.”

Harley crept quietly into Ivy’s room and found some pajamas. But before she could snuggle into bed, she peeked into the hall one last time. She’d thought Jason had turned out the bathroom light, but he’d actually just closed the door. She could see through the crack under the door that the light was still on, and she could still faintly hear the water running. Maybe he was taking a shower before he’d go back to sleep. She hoped he was feeling okay. She tucked herself into the covers next to Ivy.

“You’re cold,” Ivy mumbled, flopping over sideways, eyes still closed.

“Blame Gotham City for being so chilly tonight,” Harley said. “Cuddle me?”

“No,” Ivy grumbled into a pillow.

“Oh, what a shame, because you have no choice,” Harley snuggled up next to Ivy and fell asleep.

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By the time the next movie night came around, Jason had gone on two more missions, and Harley had done a second. They’d mapped flower patterns all over the city, but they were still having trouble isolating specific sources of Joker chemical leaks. Batman visited the greenhouse with another flash drive, this time to pick up information that Ivy had been collecting. Ivy hadn’t settled on a scientific name yet, but Ghost Flowers _was_ starting to catch on, as Nightwing had predicted. Harley didn’t know about anyone else, but she was ready for a break. Turns out, being a good guy is a _lot_ more work and planning than being a bad guy, and she didn’t really care for it. On top of that, Batman was enforcing a “no more War on Joker” policy until he had a handle on what the Joker’s “real” plan was, and Harley hadn’t blown anything up in _far_ too long. Movie night was a welcome distraction.

“Remember what I told you?” Harley dug through the cardboard box of junk food, looking for twinkies.

“Batgirl’s coming over,” Jason said. “I remember. Mask stays on.”

“Batgirl’s actually really sweet,” Harley said. _There_ were the twinkies. She only had four left? She thought she just bought a new box a few days ago. “If you were gonna un-mask in front of anybody, I would pick her.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Jason shook his head.

“She might not even recognize you,” Harley said. “With the white streak, and the scars…and what would be the worst thing that could happen if she _did_ recognize you?”

“Really?” Jason groaned. “You don’t want to hear what I think the worst case scenario is.”

“I can take it,” Harley said. She was pretty sure she had a bag of gummy bears too, and that would go _great_ with the popcorn if she could just find them.

“Worst case scenario, she tells Batman, he destroys this place to kidnap me, you and Ivy die, I spend the rest of my life in Arkham or a secret prison in the Bat-cave somewhere—“ Jason counted off ideas on his fingers.

“That is a pretty worst-case scenario,” Harley admitted. “But it does seem kind of unlikely.” She had gummy worms, but not gummy bears, and everyone knows they taste entirely different. She kept looking.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason fidgeted. “Do we have any hot cheetos?”

“I’m not sure,” Harley bit her lip. “Wait…yes, we do.” She handed Jason the bag. He pushed his helmet up on his face, so his mouth and nose were visible. He opened the hot cheetos and began crunching happily. “Don’t eat all of them, save some for company.”

Jason pushed his helmet higher up on his face and stuck out his tongue at her. She couldn’t find the gummy bears, so worms would have to do. She stuck them on the counter next to the twinkies and surveyed the little snack arrangement. It was acceptable, but she’d need to restock before next week. The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Selina said. She opened the door, and in walked Batgirl…who, much to Jason’s surprise _wasn’t_ wearing a mask. “Hey, Barbara.”

“Hi, Selina,” Barbara smiled. “I brought some Popcorn-opolis popcorn, the fancy kind with the chocolate.”

“What?” Harley screeched. “Lemme see!” It was true. It wasn’t a very big bag, but it was a delicious holy grail of chocolate, caramel popcorn. “That’s better than all my other snacks _combined.”_

“I didn’t mean to show you up,” Barbara laughed. “I just thought we’d all like a special treat. I mean, I know you’re not really helping with the Ghost Flower stuff, Selina, but the rest of us have been working pretty hard.”

“Babs, this popcorn is _exactly_ what I needed,” Harley said. “Should I even bother popping this plain, boring popcorn?”

“Yes, you should,” Ivy said. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I want fresh popcorn.”

“Me too,” Jason said.

“Red Hood,” Barbara said, raising an eyebrow. “Nice to finally meet you. You’ve still got your mask on.”

“Um. Yeah,” Jason said awkwardly. “Should I not?”

“I seem to remember someone telling me this was a no-mask event,” Barbara crossed her arms and stared at Harley.

“I _believe_ I said the hosts get to make the rules, and the hosts have decided the no-mask rule does _not_ apply to Red Hood,” Harley winked. “You may have brought us the gift of delicious chocolate popcorn, but you don’t get to make rules about masks until we have this at _your_ house.”

“I yield,” Barbara smiled. “Forget I said anything, Red Hood.”

“It’s fine,” Jason said.

“Your voice…” Barbara frowned. “It sounds kind of familiar without the mask covering it up so much.”

“I, um get that a lot,” Jason said, flushing an awkward red. “Just one of those things, I guess.”

“What are we watching tonight?” Ivy asked.

“It was my turn to pick, and I picked The Princess Bride,” Selina held up a CD.

“Oooh, I love that one!” Barbara said.

“Yeah, yeah, we _all_ love that one, you’re not special,” Harley rolled her eyes.

“I…um, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it,” Jason said.

“Oh, right!” Harley said, slapping her forehead. “You’ll _love_ it, it’s a classic.”

“Is it animated?” Jason frowned.

“I only pick live-action movies,” Selina said. “Harley’s the one who picks animated stuff, Ivy goes for weird art films that nobody likes—“

“Hey, I thought you said you _liked_ the 1972 Solaris!” Ivy frowned.

“—and Barbara likes family-action-comedies,” Selina finished.

“And it’s _my_ turn to pick next week,” Barbara smiled.

“Fresh popcorn will be out soon,” Harley slammed the microwave shut and pushed the timer. “Should we start the movie?”

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Barbara looked at Red Hood, the newest addition to the movie night crew. He’d pushed his helmet up enough to be able to eat, so she could see a little bit more of him than anyone else in the Bat-family had. Only his nose and mouth were visible, and she knew she should stop staring, but he was covered in scars. A long, jagged one sliced over his nose, and on the side of him that was facing her, he had a thin slice over his jaw that moved back and forth as he ate the popcorn.

And his voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

He seemed nice enough, anyway. She couldn’t believe Ivy and Harley had picked him up as a sidekick. He must have been in need of some serious help, or they wouldn’t have gotten attached so quickly, Barbara thought. She wondered if they were teaching him how to commit crimes or not. She hoped not, because the last thing Gotham needed was another rogue, and the last thing that kid needed was to spend his adult life in jail or Arkham. Maybe she could convince Batman to do some digging, look into where he came from, see if they could offer him any help and give him a chance at a life without the mask.

The mask was covering up what Barbara could only assume was more scar tissue. She hoped he wasn’t covering up because of any embarrassment around her. She’d seen much worse than a few scars at her “Life After the Joker” support group. She’d _been_ worse. He’d clearly been through something. Maybe she should talk to him about the support group, offer to take him to try it out.

“Faithfulness he talked of, madam, your enduring faithfulness,” Westley shouted angrily from the TV. “Now tell me truly. When you found out he was gone, did you get engaged to your prince that same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?”

“You mocked me once, never do it again!” Buttercup tearfully shouted back. “I died that day!”

Red Hood snorted in amusement and took another handful of popcorn.

Barbara smiled as Buttercup gathered her strength and pushed Westley off the cliff. “And _you_ can die too, for all I _care!”_

“As…you…wish!” Westley called as he tumbled down the hill.

“Wait, that was Westley the whole time?” Red Hood asked.

“Shh!” Harley shushed him. “Just watch the movie!”

Barbara looked at Red Hood. Her mind raced a million miles an hour as she put together the clues. It couldn’t be…but she had to ask. “Jason Todd?” she asked. “Red Hood…are you Jason Todd?”

Red Hood proceeded to immediately choke on his popcorn, which seemed like enough of an answer.

“Ha, ha, what are you talking about?” Harley said awkwardly and unconvincingly. “Who’s Jason Todd?”

“It _is_ you, isn’t it?” Barbara asked. “How are you alive? Why didn’t you come back home? Why are you wearing that mask?”

“Barbara, whoever you think Red Hood is, I can promise you, he isn’t,” Ivy said soothingly. “Let’s just go back to the movie, and—“

“Thanks for trying, Ivy,” Jason sighed. “But I guess she figured it out.” He took the mask off of his head, and Barbara watched, open-mouthed. It _was_ Jason, looking exactly how she remembered him, exactly the same as when he _died_ four years earlier…only his hair was marked by a strong white streak in his bangs, and she’d been right that there were more scars under the helmet. Now she could see another large one slicing over his right eyebrow, but the one on his nose was still the most prominent. There were red, angry lines all over him, but underneath, she was looking at the sixteen year old she had helped bury four year ago.

“Jason,” Barbara whispered, awestruck. She stood up and moved to hug him, but he flinched away, and she hesitated. “What happened?”

“Um, memory loss, for one thing,” Jason ran his hands through his helmet-flattened hair. “Your name was…Barbara, right?”

“Right,” Barbara said. She took a step back. “Memory loss?”

“So, um, I woke up here a little while ago,” Jason shrugged. He didn’t really make eye contact with her as he spoke. “And I can’t remember anything from before. Well, some stuff is coming back. Bits and pieces. You’re looking at me really weird.”

“I’m sorry,” Barbara choked. “I didn’t mean to…you’re _alive.”_

“I’m alive,” Jason shrugged. “We don’t have to make a big thing out of it. We can go back to the movie actually—“

“Everyone here knew this?” Barbara looked around the room, and Ivy, Harley, and Selina carefully avoided her gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell Batman?”

“Because Batman is scary, and I don’t _want_ to tell anyone,” Jason said angrily, crossing his arms. “It’s _my_ secret identity, isn’t it?”

“We thought you were dead,” Barbara said. “We mourned for you. Batman’s never been the same since. There’s a _you shrine_ in the Batcave.”

“Oh, cool!” Jason perked up. “Do you have any pictures of it? I kind of want to see.”

“No memories, huh?” Barbara sat down, just trying to process what was happening. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been…alive?”

“We’re not really sure,” Harley said. “Ivy found him less than a month ago, and he was alive then, so…”

“Superboy,” Barbara clenched her fist. “That must be it. Two years ago, he was trapped in another dimension, and when he was attacking the barrier, he messed up reality. I was Oracle at the time. We got a brief glimpse of some other realities, and we tracked some of the reality-alterations, but not all of them, there were just too many. Jason was _dead,_ this must have been another change we didn’t know about.”

“He was healing at superhuman speeds for the first few days after we found him,” Harley said. “It stopped after a little while, but it was keeping him alive.”

“ _Found_ him?” Barbara glared. “Let me guess, you _found_ him halfway through digging up the graveyard at Wayne Manor.”

“He was _alive_ down there, I dug him up _because the plants knew something was wrong,”_ Ivy scowled.

“Okay, okay, stop for just a second,” Harley held up her hands between them, keeping them apart. “Technically, it wasn’t grave robbing if it was a rescue, right? Jason is alive, Ivy found him, those are _good_ things, let’s all just take some deep breaths.”

“This is why I don’t want to tell people,” Jason huffed. “This conversation _sucks._ If I never have to have it again for the rest of my life, that would be great.”

“But you can’t just not tell people you’re alive,” Barbara said. “Right? That seems obvious.”

“Plenty of people have life-long secret identities.” Ivy pointed out. “It’s not like Batman ever has a conversation about who _he_ is, and how _dare_ he not tell someone in particular.”

“This is different,” Barbara said.

“Is it?” Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! Obviously!” Barbara gestured wildly. “How can you not tell that this is a _completely different situation!”_

“It’s Jason’s identity, and he’s asked us to protect it,” Ivy said firmly. “Now that you know, _you_ have to promise you won’t tell.”

“Why _wouldn’t_ I tell Batman?” Barbara growled. “He could help. Jason could come _home._ ”

“Batman doesn’t care,” Jason said quietly.

There was an awkward silence after he said it.

“…Of course he does,” Barbara finally said. “You were— _are_ like a son to him.”

“He doesn’t care,” Jason shrugged. “And I’m pretty sure he already knows it’s me.”

“He does?” Ivy asked.

“I mean, sure he does,” Jason said. “He’s talked to me, like, _twice_ already. Barbara figured it out in one, and he’s supposed to be the world’s greatest detective. So there’s no way he doesn’t know, right?”

“He wouldn’t expect it,” Barbara said. “Even if he thought you sounded kind of familiar, you’ve been dead for four years, but you look exactly the same. You haven’t aged, and actually only two months ago, he fought an imitation of you that Clayface was doing—“

“That _was_ supposed to be me?” Jason frowned. “Ivy said it was an _evil_ Robin. I’m not evil.”

“Clayface got everything right, the white streak, the scars…” Barbara considered. “Only Clayface was doing a 20-year-old you, and you still look 16.”

“Okay, you brushed right past the _evil_ part,” Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m not evil, I’m not a bad guy or anything, I’m just…I don’t know. Me. Jason. Red Hood.”

“Jason, Red Hood’s committed a bunch of crimes,” Barbara winced. “Stealing? Blowing stuff up? Those are crimes.”

“Yeah, but they’re not _evil,_ ” Jason said.

“Does Dick know it’s you? You went on a mission with him, does he know and he didn’t tell me?” Barbara groaned.

“I mean, if he knows, he didn’t say anything,” Jason shrugged.

“It’s official, first we’re gonna tell Batman and Alfred and everyone, then we’re going to tell them that _I’m_ the world’s greatest detective for figuring it out,” Barbara said.

“Jason?” Ivy looked over at him. “You’ve been pretty adamant about keeping it a secret.”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” Jason said angrily. “He already knows it’s me, he just doesn’t care.”

“Jason—“ Barbara reached out her hand towards him, and he pulled away.

“Finish the movie without me,” Jason grumbled. He grabbed the bag of hot cheetos and tucked it under his arm. “I’m gonna take a shower and maybe watch something on the computer in my room. _Alone._ ”

“Jason,” Harley tried to call after him but he just stomped away, threw the cheeto bag in his room, then stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

“Quite a temper he’s got,” Selina said, taking a bite of popcorn.

“I think it might be brain-damage related,” Harley whispered to her. “Or PTSD related. You know, PTSD can actually cause brain damage—“

“Tell me everything,” Barbara crossed her arms. “We’re not finishing this movie until I know _exactly_ what’s going on here.”

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“You really think I should keep this a secret?” Barbara frowned. “Ivy, I know you’re having fun, and you think you’ve adopted a kid, but he’s already got a family that loves him.”

“Do you think I don’t _know_ that?” Ivy hissed. “Do you think I don’t know that as soon as he gets his memories back, he’s going to waltz right out of here and I’ll never see him again? Because I know that’s what’s going to happen, and I’m _fine_ with it. But until that day, he keeps telling me he’s scared of Batman and doesn’t want anyone to know who he is, and I will protect that secret until _he_ decides it’s time to share it.”

“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’ve convinced me,” Barbara sighed. “The secret is safe with me, even if Batman’s going to _kill_ us once he finds out.”

“Ohhh,” Harley said. “You’re like the fourth person to have said that, maybe _that’s_ why Jason is scared of Batman?”

“Can I talk to him?” Barbara asked.

“You’re welcome to try,” Ivy sighed. “He might need a little more time to cool off.”

Barbara walked down the hall to the door of the guest room. She knocked a few times. “Jason?” she said. “Are you in there?”

There was no response from behind the door.

“I, um, I just wanted to say something,” Barbara coughed. She could feel that she was starting to tear up, but she just needed to get through this. “When you died, we were all heartbroken. Especially me. I know what it’s like, trying to recover from Joker violence, and I just want you to know that it’s so much better when you have people to help you. I want to be there for you, if you want. Or just, um, you should talk to Harley and Ivy about it, or anyone. And I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you as soon as you woke up. I’d…I’d like to make up for it now, if you’d let me,” Barbara sniffed.

There was still no response from behind the door, even though Barbara listened as hard as she could.

“I understand,” Barbara pulled herself together and straightened up, sadly. “I’ll leave you alone.”

The bathroom door opened, and Jason walked out, in a (mostly) fresh pair of clothes and a towel wrapped around his head. “That. Um. Was a nice speech.”

“Oh,” Barbara looked at the door of the empty room she’d been talking to. “Oops.”

“I don’t really believe you, but we can talk, I guess,” Jason shrugged.

“Believe me? About what?” Barbara asked.

“I mean, I _died,”_ Jason said. “Did _you_ die? I don’t think so. So how can you possibly know what it’s like?”

“Maybe we _could_ talk about this more privately,” Barbara said, glancing back at movie night in the living room. “You’re right, I didn’t die, but…well. We should talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> true fans will look at Jason's most recent nightmare about his death and go back and read the opening of this fic again...remember the first thing Jason said when he came out of the ground?


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re not the only one who’s suffered at the hands of the Joker,” Barbara had said. “You should come to my support group,” Barbara had said. “Friendship and connection is the key to recovery,” Barbara had said. It made Jason want to be sick.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when she told him that she’d fallen back on her other skills, such as a _photographic memory_ (like that was no big deal, when Jason would _kill_ for a more useful talent than “crowbar”). After she’d been partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair, she’d picked a new name, she became Oracle, and Batman scooped her right up to continue the fight against crime. It was supposed to be inspiring, Jason was _sure_ it was supposed to encourage him to see that “it gets better” or something like that, but it was just a great reminder of what he wasn’t. He didn’t have any special skills, _literally all he had was a crowbar_. He didn’t have a photographic memory, he didn’t have _any_ memories. And he wasn’t wanted on the Bat-family team, and even if they _might_ have wanted him back, he’d already messed that up by allying with Ivy and Harley. He nodded at the appropriate points in Barbara’s story, and he tried to listen, he really did, but the line from the Princess Bride kept bouncing around his head: “Did you get engaged to your prince that same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?” He didn’t care about the magical/supernatural/scientifically-implausible way she’d recovered from her paralysis, he wanted to know about the new Robin. Everyone kept saying “Batman cares about you,” but no one had an answer for how Jason had ended up dead or why Batman had replaced him. “Did you get a new Robin that same hour, or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?” It made Jason want to punch something. It made Jason want to curl up in bed and die. Again.

Barbara finished up with something about how he should think about how grateful he was to be alive, and to appreciate his chance at a new life. Jason mumbled something that seemed to pacify her, and she hugged him. It was weird talking to her. He really didn’t remember her very well, but she talked like they were best friends. She _must_ have noticed that he wasn’t getting her references to past adventures or inside jokes, right? It wasn’t anything personal, and Jason really tried to be nice to her, it was just that she was friends with someone who didn’t exist anymore. “Jason Todd, the Robin” died four years ago, and Red Hood didn’t know Batgirl well enough for conversations like this.

They went back to the movie, even though Jason could hardly focus on it anymore. He felt like his skin was crawling, he could _feel_ Barbara staring at him. Sure, she tried not to, but she was still doing it. He wanted tp put his helmet back on, but he knew that wouldn’t make her stop. He felt exposed.

But he managed to smile at her when she left, and she didn’t try to hug him again, which was good. Of course, once movie night was over and they started to get ready for bed, he had to confront an entirely different problem, which was the nightmares. They weren’t going away. In fact, they were only getting stronger every night. He really didn’t want to have to deal with one about Barbara, but there didn’t seem to be a way around it.

…Or was there?

Jason brushed his teeth and realized that the obvious answer would be that if he didn’t go to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to have nightmares. Which was a really tempting thought, but impossible, right? He’d never make it through the night.

…Unless he took Harley’s coffee and drank enough of it to stay up. She’d probably give him plenty if he asked, but she’d want to know why he wanted to stay up, and he wouldn’t have a good answer. No, it was probably better to try and get some sleep, anyway. He said goodnight to Ivy and Harley, and then sat awake in his bed in the dark for two hours.

Every time he almost managed to drift off to sleep, he jolted awake with a flash of the nightmare that was waiting for him. He couldn’t tell if his headache was real, or if he was just imagining it.

This wasn’t working. He needed to either get some real sleep, or get up and do something. Maybe he could analyze plant samples or something—no, he was too tired. But coffee would perk him up enough to get some work done, _and_ it might keep him awake for the rest of the night. That was just a coincidence, he wouldn’t be _trying_ to stay awake all night.

So he snuck into the kitchen a little after midnight, just for a small cup of coffee. He fumbled with the coffeemaker for five minutes until he could figure out how to get it working, then found a mug in one of the cabinets. The coffee tasted kind of bitter and gross, but it would keep him awake. He was going to choke the rest of it down anyway, but then he found some sugar cubes and some cream, and it made the coffee much more drinkable.

He needed something to do. If Ivy woke up in the morning and saw him messing around, she’d wonder why he hadn’t gotten any sleep, and she’d be worried about him. But if he’d been up working on the Ghosts, that was just a stroke of inspiration about the project that couldn’t be wasted, a one-time thing, nothing to be worried about. He opened the door to the greenhouse and tiptoed through. The moonlight shone through the roof, but it wasn’t enough light to work in.

“Please don’t wake Ivy,” Jason whispered to the plants. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s just me, not a Bat or anything. I’m not an intruder, I live here, so no need to get angry…”

The leaves on the strawberry bush twitched as he passed them, but overall, Jason was allowed to move about the greenhouse. He went to Ivy’s lab table and looked at the map. He and Nightwing had traced some specific outlines of Ghost growth in the city, and it was really starting to come together. It looked like it should be starting to come together, but Jason couldn’t see the pattern. He left the map and looked at the experimental plots. The Ghosts were poking out of the ground in almost every one, as Ivy was starting to get a handle on them. He reached out to one of the flowers, which was dripping with syrupy nectar. He got a little on his finger. It was sticky. He wiped it off on the ground, and noticed there was an outlet under the table, with a plug right next to it that wasn’t plugged in. He plugged it in, and there was a soft light from the table. He looked up to see that the microscope was now lit up. He looked through the eyepiece. There was already a sample in there. It looked like a slide of mush, he couldn’t tell what Ivy had been looking at.

Maybe this was a bad idea. What could he possibly work on that Batman and Ivy hadn’t figured out on their own? He was just getting in the way, and in the morning, Ivy would be quietly upset that he’d messed up all her experiments. He inched away from the table, and tripped over a root poking out of the ground. He landed flat on his face. He quickly scrambled away from the root as it sunk back into the ground—he didn’t want to get tangled up in vines and stuck in here.

Tangled up in vines. Jason remembered what that felt like. But from when? It must have been from when Ivy found him and dug him up. But the whole point of being awake was to not have to deal with bad memories and nightmares, so Jason gritted his teeth, stood up…

And remembered that he’d recognized the Ghosts, even right after he woke up and his brain was more soup than anything else. Ivy hadn’t believed him, because she said the plants were too new in Gotham City, but he’d remembered them. From where?

He could feel it on the edges of his awareness. It was colored brown and orange, like a desert, and there was a building, and a woman he didn’t recognize…

The whole point of staying awake was to avoid reliving those memories. He didn’t want to think about it, he really didn’t. But that was definitely the answer. He remembered standing outside the warehouse, and there were little white and yellow flowers on the ground. He took his mom’s hands and told her he would protect her. And she told him she needed to get something inside, and he told her he’d go with her—

He clenched his fists, open and closed, squeezing them tightly, trying to focus on reality, don’t get sucked into the dream agin. But he was right, he _did_ recognize the flowers. He’d seen them before, somewhere that wasn’t in Gotham, outside a warehouse that was full of Joker chemicals. He knew it was a desert, but he couldn’t remember where. Maybe if he saw the place again, he’d recognize it. He needed the computer.

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Ivy entered the greenhouse a little after 8 in the morning, to find Jason already awake, staring blankly at a computer screen. “You’re up early,” Ivy said. He had little dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look very good. “Did you get any sleep at all, last night?” Ivy frowned.

“I _told_ you I recognized them,” Jason said quietly, not tearing his eyes off the computer screen.

“What are you talking about?” Ivy asked. She came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. It was a blurry picture of a Ghost Flower. “What are you doing?”

Jason clicked a button, and the picture zoomed out. He clicked a few more times, and the picture zoomed so far out she could see it was a desert. It certainly didn’t look like Gotham.

“What is this?” Ivy asked.

“Satellite images of Lebanon,” Jason said.

“How are there Ghosts in Lebanon?” Ivy asked.

“Because the Joker was there four years ago, spilling chemicals and…stuff,” Jason said.

“Oh.” Ivy said, processing this. “I see.”

“The Ghosts aren’t from Gotham,” Jason said. “They’re from somewhere else, they just moved here, somehow.”

“Which means we need to find where they’re from,” Ivy said. “Did you figure it out?”

“No,” Jason shook his head. “We should—you should—Batman could ask whoever’s on monitor duty to scan for Ghosts worldwide, and we’d probably get a better picture of what’s going on with them.”

“Monitor duty?” Ivy asked.

“At the Justice League Satellite,” Jason said. “I remember it. This is just pictures from Google Earth, but look.” He closed the internet browser and showed her several screenshots he took, Ghost Flowers popping up around the remains of what looked like a half-exploded warehouse in the desert in Lebanon.

“You were there?” Ivy asked.

Jason nodded.

“How are you doing?” Ivy asked, gently. “Do you need to talk about anything, or—“

“We should call Batman and tell him to contact the Satellite,” Jason said, sliding out of the chair and standing up. He swayed slightly on his feet for a moment, Ivy noticed. “I’ll be inside,” Jason said.

“Okay,” Ivy said, slowly. “Try to get some sleep, okay? This is great work, though. Good job.”

“Thanks,” Jason shrugged.

“I mean it,” Ivy said. “I’m proud of—“

Jason had already fled the greenhouse.

“—you,” Ivy finished. She hoped he was feeling okay. She noticed an coffee mug on the table, and sighed. Jason looked like he needed a good night’s rest, and he’d be just fine. She sent a text message to the number Batman had given her:

_Red Hood found Ghosts outside Gotham._

_We need to use the Justice League Satellite to find more._

It _was_ early in the morning, and Batman tended to be nocturnal, much like his namesake. She expected she wouldn’t get a text until later that day, but her phone buzzed almost immediately.

_Can you meet at the Batcave?_

Now _that_ was interesting. So far, the team-up had been coordinated mostly at her house, specifically to avoid the difficulties of inviting rogues into the Batcave. She wondered what was going on.

_I can be there soon,_ she replied.

_I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes,_ came the response.

_Bring your team._

“Shit,” Ivy said. She went back into the house and turned on the coffee maker, then turned on the lights in her bedroom.

“Babe, what’s mmmrnghl,” Harley mumbled from the bed.

“We’re going to the Batcave in 20 minutes,” Ivy said. “Get up, get dressed, _come on!_ ”

“I’m coming!” Harley fell out of bed.

“Jason!” Ivy knocked on his door. “Interested in visiting the Batcave?”

“What? Why?” Jason opened his door and stared suspiciously at her.

“We’re invited,” Ivy held out the phone for him to see.

“I’m good here,” Jason said, closing his door just slightly.

“Wait, are you sure?” Ivy asked. “You’re the one who figured out there are Ghosts outside the city. That might be the whole reason we’re having a meeting.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason mumbled. “I want to stay home.”

Ivy looked him up and down. Yeah, he definitely needed some sleep. “That’s fine,” Ivy nodded. “We’ll lock the door behind us, just leave your phone on, and if there’s any trouble, hide in the greenhouse and my plants will protect you, okay?”

“Yep,” Jason said, closing his door a little bit more. “Can I go now?”

“Sorry, yes,” Ivy said. “Get some sleep—“

The door closed on her. Harley blearily stumbled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen for coffee. Ivy went back to the greenhouse and swept a few items off her desk into a bag; she wasn’t sure what she might need. For a few moments, she hesitated. Jason really didn’t look too good. Maybe he was getting sick? Maybe she should stay home with him, just in case he needed something.

No, he’d be fine on his own. She didn’t want to make him feel like she was trying to baby him. And really, a few hours of sleep would probably make him feel much better, he must have spent all night awake working on his research, and he was tired out. She did knock on his door one more time, just to check on him, but he really seemed like he wanted to be left alone.

The doorbell rang, and she opened it to find Batman on the other side. She smiled at him. “You didn’t need to come all the way here yourself, we could have just walked,” Ivy grinned.

“Ooh! Do we get to meet in the mansion part, or do we have to be in the cave part?” Harley asked. She shoved the last half of a bagel into her mouth.

“Selina doesn’t keep any of my secrets, does she,” Batman grumbled. “Is Red Hood ready?”

“He’s not coming,” Ivy said. Batman didn’t ask for further clarification, he just gestured to the Batmobile for them to climb in.

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The Bat-computer stood menacingly tall over a small conference table that had been set up. “This is so cool!” Harley elbowed Ivy. “Look! He’s actually got a giant penny! I thought that was a myth!”

“It’s certainly…dark,” Ivy crinkled her nose.

“I can’t believe we’re having this meeting _here,_ ” Batgirl rolled her eyes. “Don’t we get to keep _any_ secrets?”

“It’s not like this place is secure, anyway,” Robin shrugged. “I mean, _I_ broke in, so how hard could it really be?”

Ivy kind of wanted to talk about whatever _that_ was supposed to mean. She looked around. There was a statue of a T-rex, there were shelves and racks containing various bat-devices, there were stalactites and other cave things…and sure enough, just as Batgirl had said, there was a _shrine._ To _Jason._

It wasn’t much. It was a very tasteful display of a Robin uniform in a glass cylinder. Ivy wondered if anyone would get mad if she took a photo of it. Jason _had_ requested to see it, after all. Maybe she should have insisted he come. Being back here might have helped him get some of his memories back.

“Thinking about Red Hood?” It was Nightwing, standing right behind her. She turned to face him.

“What? What do you mean?” Ivy asked awkwardly.

“He’s almost the same age Jason was…no one wants a repeat of what happened to him,” Nightwing said sadly. “I loved being a teen sidekick, but…it’s a tough life.”

“Oh. Right,” Ivy said, looking back at the shrine. She _had_ been thinking about Red Hood, but she really couldn’t explain why to Nightwing. “Is Batman ready? He was just here…”

“He’s grabbing something from upstairs,” Nightwing said. “He’ll be back any minute, then we can get started. Where _is_ Red Hood, anyway?”

“He’s not coming,” Ivy said awkwardly. She was starting to hate this conversation.

“Aw, man,” Nightwing laughed. “That sucks, he was a great partner. I’d love to team up again.”

“He’s…sick,” Ivy lied, then worried she was too unconvincing, then wondered why she’d bothered with a lie at all.

“I hope he feels better,” Nightwing said, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” Ivy said, taking another glance at the Jason shrine. With a _whooshing_ sound, Batman slid down a pole and landed in a perfect three-point pose in the center of the cave.

“Guess we’re starting the meeting,” Nightwing said.

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The team gathered around the conference table. Batman stood imposingly at the head, with rogues on his left and Bat-family members on his right.

“Here’s what we know,” Batman pulled up a map of Gotham on the Bat-computer. He drew a circle around Gotham Harbor and the surrounding terrain. “The source of the Joker’s chemicals is somewhere in this area, but they’re spreading throughout the whole city. Nightwing and Red Hood collected data indicating that _this_ is the most likely base of operations, a saltwater reclamation center,” Batman put a red “X” over a spot on the docks. Harley, thank you for putting your War on Joker on hold, because it helped me and Robin figure out the next part of his plan. The Joker wants to use the center to aerosolize his chemicals, making a new, deadlier form of Joker gas. And that reclamation center has pipes that connect all over the city—it wouldn’t just be deadly gas, but an attack on the whole city’s water system.”

“Woah,” Harley winced. “And you didn’t tell us until now, because…?”

“I wasn’t sure until today,” Batman slammed his fist on the table. “The Justice League satellite will confirm it, that he’s been draining his chemical stores worldwide and bringing it all back to Gotham. Soon he’ll be ready to wage war on _all_ of Gotham, not just you, Harley. He’ll make the city totally unlivable, and if there are any survivors, he’ll get rid of them.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” Batgirl punched her fist into her other hand.

“I have a preliminary plan,” Batman said. “As I walk everyone through it, be on the lookout for any flaws or mistakes that I’ve missed. I am completely open to constructive criticism.”

“He _always_ says that,” Nightwing stage-whispered to Ivy. She stifled a giggle as Batman drew several lines on the board.

“We’ll have a two-pronged assault,” Batman frowned. “One team, led by me, will approach from the sea. We’ll break in the back, get to the reclamation center’s controls, and shut it down. The other team, led by Poison Ivy—“

“What?” Ivy coughed.

“—will go in by land. The Ghosts’ pollen and sap have anti-Joker properties, and they’ll be our last line of defense. Poison Ivy will grow a wall of Ghosts, and her team will use them to plug up as many exits as they can. Those chemicals aren’t getting out, and if everything goes well, no one’s getting away, either.” Batman said.

“I’m sorry, _I’m_ leading a team?” Ivy interrupted.

“You’re the obvious choice,” Batman crossed his arms.

“I’m a _villain,_ ” Ivy raised her eyebrows.

“You’re an eco-terrorist, and the Joker’s about to poison the entire city’s air, water, and soil,” Batman sighed. “I’m 96.2% certain I can trust you.”

“That’s…a pretty specific number,” Harley said.

“I ran the numbers. There’s a 97.8% chance you’ll cooperate too, Harley, and I haven’t run calculations for Red Hood yet,” Batman frowned. “Is he in, or is he out?”

“I’ll have to ask him,” Ivy said awkwardly. “He’s, um, sick, which is why he isn’t here—“

“Moving on,” Batman said. “That was the basics of the plan, now we need to break it down.” He clicked a button on a remote, and the map of Gotham disappeared, replaced by the title slide of a powerpoint presentation.

“Ughhhhh,” Nightwing, Batgirl, and Robin all groaned and slumped slightly in their chairs.

“Is this going to take very long?” Harley raised her hand.

“Yes,” Batman said.

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Jason was on his fifth cup of coffee since…he wasn’t sure. He’d also dug some Red Bull and energy bars out of Harley’s junk food cardboard box.

Maybe staying awake for the foreseeable future was a bad idea. He’d have to sleep _some_ time, right? He was starting to feel…not great. But, on the upside, he was nightmare-free for over 24 hours, the longest he’d gone since waking up on Ivy’s couch. So it _was_ working, wasn’t it?

Eventually, hours later, Ivy and Harley returned from their meeting at the Batcave. Jason hid inside the house until the Batmobile that had been carrying them disappeared, then unlocked the door and let them in.

“How was the meeting?” Jason asked.

“Long,” Ivy said.

“Boring,” Harley groaned.

“Informative,” Ivy said.

“ _Too_ informative,” Harley frowned.

“What did you talk about?” Jason asked. “It’s been hours. I watched two movies all the way through while you were gone.”

“Which ones?” Harley asked.

“Ratatouille and Space Jam,” Jason said.

“What a combo,” Harley crinkled her nose.

“Batman’s got a plan for a final assault on the Joker,” Ivy said. She carefully set her bag down on the counter and rubbed her forehead. “It’s a… _detailed,_ plan, but it looks like it’ll work.”

“What are you going to do? Blow stuff up?” Jason asked.

“He wants us to have an assault on the Gotham saltwater reclamation center in two days,” Ivy said.

“To blow it up?” Jason asked.

“Sorry, kid,” Harley ruffled Jason’s hair. “There are _entirely_ too few explosions in Batman’s plans. I pointed it out, and you’d think a guy who _claims_ he can take constructive criticism would know a good idea when it hits him in the face, but—“

“I’m going to need some practice if I’m going to be growing _that many_ Ghosts,” Ivy sighed. “But first I’m going to need a nap.”

“Do you want to come, Jason?” Harley asked. “There’s two teams. Ivy and Nightwing are taking one side, and me, Batman, and Robin are on the other. Batgirl’s a floater, whichever team needs her in the moment more gets her. Batman supposedly assessed everyone’s skills and put the whole thing together, but he also said there was a 97.8% chance I’d help, which I think is unfair, because I’m actually very unpredictable, and I—“

“Wait,” Jason said. “Which team am I supposed to be on?”

“Ooh,” Harley winced awkwardly. “Well, the good news is, you get to pick!”

“What’s the bad news?” Jason asked.

“It’s possible that Batman _might_ not think you’re enough of threat to have calculated _your_ cooperation probabilities, or to assign you to a particular team,” Harley said. “He said it gently, but…you know.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Jason said, taken aback.

“But that just means you can pick whichever team you want!” Harley gushed.

“I guess I’ll go with Ivy’s team, then,” Jason said.

“I’m going to nap,” Ivy said, already halfway to the bedroom.

“I’m coming too,” Harley yawned. “Batman sure can talk for a long time.”

“Okay, great,” Jason said. “I’ll be, um. Here.”

“There’s more details and stuff, but I’ll give ‘em to ya later,” Harley said. “Or just go through Ivy’s stuff and check it out, she won’t mind.” Ivy mumbled something in response from the other room. “Coming, my love!” Harley called back, then waltzed away.

“Um, have a good…nap?” Jason said after her. He looked at Ivy’s bag. Eh. He could wait until someone woke up to explain the plan to him. Not that it even mattered what he did, apparently. But that was what he got for not going to the meeting. He wasn’t even a big enough threat to get a cooperation rating?

“Tell that to my _crowbar,” Jason_ muttered, taking it out of his belt and giving it a few practice swings. A weapon good enough to kill a Robin, and it didn’t make him a threat? Yeah, right.

But it was possible that this was proof of Jason’s theory, that Batman _did_ know it was him under the Red Hood; he’d known since the very beginning. Jason didn’t get a rating because he already _had_ one, back from before he’d died. And Batman knew it was him alive again under the mask, he just really didn’t care where Jason went or what he did or who he did it with.

And maybe, that rating was really low, making Jason even _less_ necessary for the mission. Maybe Batman had run the numbers before Jason died, and realized that he was expending _way_ too much effort keeping Jason around. Maybe Batman had updated the “hostage Robin” backup plan to account for Jason’s uselessness, and when the Joker finally got him, Batman was secretly _happy_ because he wouldn’t have to deal with Jason anymore. Maybe _that_ was why he didn’t come to the rescue.

And maybe dying hadn’t been enough, Jason wondered. Maybe, Batman had wished Jason would have _stayed_ dead. Maybe the whole point of the meeting was a trap, to get Jason back in the Batcave, where Batman could get rid of him, efficiently and _permanently_ this time. Maybe—

Harley yawned as she came back into the kitchen. “Jason, have you seen that one pillow Ivy likes? The one with the memory foam thing?”

“Hm?” Jason as startled out of his daydream. “It’s on the couch. She left it there this morning.”

“Thanks,” Harley grabbed it. “You feeling okay? You don’t look so good.”

“What? I’m fine,” Jason replied automatically.

“Okay,” Harley yawned and headed back into the bedroom.

Jason was being silly. No one had wanted him dead, and nobody wanted to kill him now. He’d probably feel better if he got some sleep. But then he remembered that sleep was a trick, his brain just wanted to shove more bad memories and nightmares at him. He scrounged through Harley’s cardboard box for another Red Bull.

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Ivy had given more emotional support to plants in the past two hours since waking up from her nap than she could recall ever giving in her life. The Ghosts had only gotten more reliable and friendly since she’d teamed up with Batman, but they were still stubborn little guys.

_Come on,_ she whispered. _This is really, really good, but you can do better, right?_

With a little more coaxing, she managed to get the plant in front of her to grow another foot tall, making it…two feet tall. This was going to take a lot more practice. She heard soft footsteps behind her. It was Jason.

“What’s up?” she asked. The Ghost in front of her waved, just slightly.

“Not much,” Jason shrugged. Ivy noticed he still had noticeable bags under his eyes.

“Sleeping okay?” Ivy asked.

“Fine, why?” Jason spat angrily back at her. Okay. So he was a complete liar, and she doubted he was getting much sleep at all.

“Just curious,” Ivy said. She knelt, and rubbed the Ghost’s leaves between her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked. “It sounds weird.”

“This?” Ivy asked. “I was just checking to see if the leaves are still as thick as they need to be at this larger size. I was—“

“No, earlier,” Jason crinkled his nose. “It sounded like…like maybe there was something out here.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Ivy said. “Take a few steps back, okay?”

Jason complied, and Ivy concentrated on the Ghost in front of her. _You’re doing so well! I’m so proud. Keep going! Just a little more._

With a soft popping, rustling sound, the Ghost grew another few inches.

“Woah!” Jason leapt back. “Yeah, that was it. That’s so _fast!”_

“You’ve seen me work before,” Ivy smirked. “Are you really surprised?”

“I saw you move plants that were already there, I didn’t see you _grow_ stuff,” Jason gasped. “Can I help?”

“Unfortunately, there’s not a lot you can do today,” Ivy sighed. “The mission on the seawater reclamation center isn’t until tomorrow night, so I just need to practice with the Ghosts a little bit more.”

“Oh,” Jason wilted. “Are you sure there’s nothing for me to do?”

“If I could pass along my superpowers to you, I promise I would,” Ivy smiled. “It would be easier with two people…but we’re not poisoning you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason kicked at the ground. “How’d you get the flower so big, anyway?”

“My…superpowers, Jason,” Ivy said slowly. “I have plant superpowers that—“

“No, I mean, how’d you get it so big _here?_ ” Jason asked. “They need Joker chemicals to grow, right? But your greenhouse is all clean and stuff.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Ivy turned back to the Ghost and considered. “Once my powers started to work on them, I assumed the problem was solved.”

“We could go to that warehouse that Harley and I blew up,” Jason said. “I could take you! There’s plenty of chemicals in the ground there, and there’s already Ghosts there to practice on.”

“That sounds great,” Ivy said. “That’s a good idea.”

“Thanks,” Jason turned just slightly pink and puffed up his chest a little bit more. “I’ll get my gear!”

“Jason,” Ivy crossed her arms. “Wait just one second.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“You _are_ trying to be my sidekick, aren’t you?” Ivy smiled.

“I’m _nobody’s_ sidekick,” Jason grunted. “I’m Red Hood!” The deepening pink flush on his cheeks spoke otherwise.

“Well, I always said I could use a partner,” Ivy said.

“What? I thought that was _my_ job!” Harley leaned into the greenhouse.

“Dear, you just aren’t invested in eco-terrorism, and that’s perfectly okay,” Ivy said. She walked over and gave Harley a kiss on the cheek. “Jason, I’ve got some papers I think you might find really fascinating, actually. Once this is all over, we’ll do some of my _usual_ work together.”

“That’s…really great,” Jason said, looking slightly crestfallen. “I, um. I’ll go get my stuff.” He squeezed past Harley into the house.

“Do you think he’s feeling all right?” Ivy peered after Jason, concerned. “He’s having much wilder mood swings, and I don’t think he’s sleeping…”

“I wonder if it’s a side effect of him getting his memories back,” Harley said. “If we had an MRI machine…and a scan of him right after we found him, of course—“

“You’re right, maybe it’s nothing,” Ivy shook her head. “But keep an eye on him, okay? If he’s not feeling up to the mission at the reclamation center, he shouldn’t go.”

“Said the person taking him on a mission right _now,_ ” Harley rolled her eyes.

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“This way,” Jason adjusted his helmet and led Ivy around the corner.

“This is where you took that photo you sent me?” Ivy asked.

“Well…it was…less exploded, at the time,” Jason winced. Where the warehouse once stood, there was a star-shaped pattern of ash on the ground, with a few remnants of “crime scene, do not cross” tape. “But it was right over here.” He showed Ivy a small crack in the cement, with some ashy plant residue still visible.

Ivy stuck her finger in the ground, pulled up a clump of dirt, and licked it. “Ew,” she grimaced. “Yep, tastes like Joker.”

“But there’s no Ghosts left,” Jason sighed. “I’m sorry. Should we go somewhere else?”

“Don’t worry. This will work perfectly,” Ivy said. She knelt and laid her palms flat on the cement.

Jason could tell she was doing that thing where she talked to the plants. He couldn’t quite make it out, even when he wasn’t wearing the helmet. The whispery rustling went on for a minute or two, then Jason started to hear soft popping sounds. Ghosts popped out of the cement, growing taller than Jason had ever seen them. A few made their own cracks, digging up the ground as they grew, making more space for more flowers. Jason watched, and within minutes, the whole area started to look like a beautiful hedge. He _really_ wished he had super powers. It wasn’t like a crowbar was the world’s most exciting weapon. He wanted to do something cool, something _useful_.

“Hm,” Ivy frowned. “I think I could use your help.”

“Really? With what?” Jason looked up.

“Well, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but…” Ivy smiled, awkwardly. “Do you want to spar?”

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Jason swung his crowbar wildly in his right hand, smashing it right into a Ghost flower the size of his head. “Are you sure this is helping?” he glanced back at Ivy.

“I’m sure. Stay focused,” Ivy said. Her eyes were closed, and she sat on the ground, hands still palms down, concentrating. Jason dodged a new flower that was growing right where he had just been standing, and sliced through a large, wide daisy-clover leaf with the crowbar.

“No fair,” Jason panted. “I thought you said we were sparring.”

“We are,” Ivy said. “Behind you.”

Jason rolled forwards, narrowly avoiding a stem that was curling towards him threateningly. “You’re just sitting there! I’m the one doing all the work!”

“I’m practicing,” Ivy said. “Pretend you’re a Joker goon, do some more damage. On your left.”

Jason screamed and ripped apart the leaves diving towards him from the left. Just as quickly as he could get rid of them, new plants were already starting to grow in. “Stop warning me! You’re going easy on me.”

“No I’m not,” Ivy cracked open one of her eyes. “Why would you say that?”

Jason knelt and swung low with the crowbar, destroying a couple stems that were getting too close to him. He ducked out of the way as the Ghosts came crashing down around him.

“Nice one,” Ivy raised her eyebrows.

Jason panted. He was starting to get out of breath. “There. How was that?”

“You were excellent,” Ivy said, standing up. As she lost focus, the plants around Jason twitched just slightly before settling down. “In the real battle, I’ll need to be able to regrow our defenses faster. And you won’t be destroying the flowers, but you’ll be shoving them in pipes to block up the chemical flow, and that’s still technically damage I’ll need to replace.”

“You’re really good,” Jason said. “Woah!” Jason grabbed Ivy’s shoulder to steady her. She swayed just slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Just out of breath,” Ivy smiled. “Let’s take a break.”

Jason leaned back against one of the Ghost flowers, and Ivy sat nearby. “Do you think it’s really gonna work?” Jason asked. “Do you think we’ll really stop the Joker?”

“I hope so,” Ivy shrugged. “We’ll at least be able to slow him down. Batman’s plans usually work out, that man prepares for everything.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Jason grumbled. “He’ll put the Joker in Arkham, but he’ll just come back in a month or two. If Batman were _really_ smart, he’d stop the Joker _permanently.”_

“Do you mean…by killing him?” Ivy asked.

“I mean…I guess so,” Jason shrugged, looking away.

“Do you really want to live in a world where Batman kills people?” Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe!” Jason blurted. “No, I guess not,” he sighed.

“It’ll be okay,” Ivy rubbed Jason’s shoulder. “You don’t have to come on the mission, you know. If you’re still scared of the Joker, that’s totally okay, everyone would understand.”

“I’m not scared of the Joker,” Jason said angrily. “I mean, I’m not scared of _anything._ ”

“It’s okay if you’re scared of Batman,” Ivy said. “I’m scared of plenty of things.”

“Look, can we talk about something else?” Jason said.

“I’m just worried about you,” Ivy said. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I haven’t,” Jason said quietly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission at the reclamation center,” Ivy said.

“Why? Do you not want me to go?” Jason asked.

“No, of course not! I want you to go, I’m just worried about you,” Ivy said.

“Well, don’t be,” Jason scowled. “I can take care of myself, can’t I?” He stood, and sliced through the flower he’d been leaning against with one stroke. “Let’s go again, if you think you can take it.”

“Okay,” Ivy laughed and shoved her palms into the ground. “In that case, I _won’t_ go easy on you.”

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Harley was ready with Ivy’s favorite protein smoothie as a post-workout treat. The door opened, and Harley was surprised to find that Ivy was now sporting a black eye. “What happened?” Harley asked.

“ _Somebody_ wanted to prove he can take care of himself in a real fight,” Ivy said, taking the smoothie out of Ivy’s hand.

“I… _may_ have gotten over-excited,” Jason grinned sheepishly.

“Nope, it was totally on me,” Ivy said, sipping her smoothie. “I should have been more careful. And you pointed out the weakness on my left side before you hit me, so—“

“What?” Harley asked.

“Just with my fist!” Jason said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to do it so hard! I’m real sorry, Ivy—”

“Jason, it’s totally fine, I told you,” Ivy ruffled his hair and smiled. “But this means I’m going to need you defending my left side during the mission tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”

“It’s _definitely_ all right with me,” Jason grinned, puffing up his chest with pride. “I’ll get you something for your eye!” Jason scampered off into the kitchen.

“So…I guess you really _are_ adopting him?” Harley grinned and elbowed Ivy in the side.

“He’s a good partner,” Ivy smiled, staring after Jason. “He’s a _great_ partner. The Bats were lucky to have him.”

Harley put her arm around Ivy’s shoulder. “Who know that after all this time as a loner nerd villain—“

“Eco-terrorist,” Ivy corrected her.

“—that you’d finally get a sidekick!” Harley finished. “Does he change his costume and get a Poison-Ivy-themed name, or—“

“He gets whatever he wants,” Ivy sighed, sadly pushing Harley’s arm away.

“Babe,” Harley said. “Come on. You don’t seriously think he’s gonna leave us, do you?”

“I think he’s getting his memories back, and that’s _good,_ it means he’s recovering…” Ivy said, then took a long sip of her smoothie. Harley stared at her until Ivy sighed and kept going. “It’s not that I think he’s going to leave, I just can’t shake the feeling that he’d be happier with the Bats. He’s a great fighter, he deserves partners that won’t get black eyes and lecture him about handling plant samples.”

“Well, I’m glad you say this stuff to me, and not him,” Harley said. “You’d break his heart, babe. He _worships_ you, he thinks you’re the coolest thing in Gotham. He _wants_ to be your sidekick, and you really wouldn’t let him?”

“Of course I’d let him,” Ivy glared. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” Harley sighed. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, too. But you can’t live your life waiting for people to leave you, you just gotta trust them.”

“You’re right,” Ivy said. She took another sip of the smoothie, and gave Harley a hug. “Say, did _you_ do any training for the mission, or—“

“Oh, _god_ no, babe,” Harley shook her head. “You _know_ I don’t go to the gym, I’m just naturally like this.”

“Very funny, Captain Hammer,” Ivy smiled. “Let’s go put something on my eye before it gets any worse.”

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“Something cold, something cold…” Jason dug through the freezer, eventually finding a bag of frozen peas. “There we go!” He grabbed it and headed back towards the front door, but as he came around the corner, he overheard Harley and Ivy talking.

“Babe,” Harley was saying. “Come on. You don’t seriously think he’s gonna leave us, do you?”

Jason’s heart stopped. He clutched the peas a little closer and tried to listen.

“I think he’s getting his memories back, and that’s _good,_ it means he’s recovering…” Ivy said. There was a long pause. “It’s not that I think he’s going to leave, I just can’t shake the feeling that he’d be happier with the Bats. He’s—“

Ivy kept talking, and Jason’s heart plummeted into his stomach. _This_ again? He was never going to be good enough to stay here, no matter _how_ good a fighter he was. He wasn’t good enough for Batman to keep him, and now even Batman’s _villains_ didn’t want him. Jason kept listening.

“You know what I mean,” Ivy said.

“Yeah, I do,” Harley sighed. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, too.” Jason didn’t wait to hear any more, he just left the peas on the counter and went to his room. Why was he so _useless?_ Harley and Ivy didn’t really want him, why would they? And Jason hadn’t even realized they’d been trying to hand him off to the Bat-family, how stupid can you get?

He wasn’t going back to Batman, and he wasn’t staying here, where he wasn’t wanted. After the mission, he’d tell Ivy that he remembered he had family in Bludhaven or something, he’d just leave and get out of everybody’s hair. _Surely_ there was room in Bludhaven for a guy with a crowbar to make a name for himself.

No, wait. He shook his head. This was just the lack of sleep talking. He should really talk to Harley about all this, she’d make him feel better. Or, she’d take pity on him and she wouldn’t tell him what she _really_ thought of him. No, he needed someone who could be objective, someone who he knew cared about him, but wouldn’t try to take responsibility for him. Someone like… Nightwing? It might work. During the mission, he’d get a few moments alone with Nightwing, ask his advice about some stuff. _Then_ he’d figure out what to do. But before the mission, he had something important to do. He needed a sharpie.

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“Hey, looking good!” Harley gave a thumbs up. It was the evening of the mission, and “Team Poison Ivy” was packing up to go. Jason emerged from his room with a stylish new addition to his helmet: he’d drawn a little sharpie domino mask around the eyepieces, and thin decorative lines down each cheek.

“Thanks,” Jason said. “Is everyone ready?”

“I suppose so,” Ivy sighed. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, but when she squeezed her eyes, they watched as a thin layer of leaves grew all over her, covering up her outfit and turning it into her “costume.” She stretched her arms out a few times, making sure everything was stuck on tight, then finished it off with a crown of Ghost flowers curling out of her hair.

“Wow,” Harley said. “I can’t tell if I’m in love, or insanely jealous of how little time you spend prepping. Do you know how long I spent putting on makeup for this?”

“I almost forgot,” Ivy said. She reached into a (now invisible) pocket in her shorts and pulled out some lipstick, applying it without even looking.

Harley sighed. “Gorgeous, babe.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Ivy smiled and kissed Harley on the cheek. Harley promptly rubbed it out, and it perfectly matched the rest of her “effortless” messy makeup look. Jason got the impression this was a routine for the two of them.

“If we’re all ready, then…” Harley picked up her baseball bat and twirled it in one hand. “Let’s go!”

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“Careful,” Batman said. “Your mask…it’s slipping.”

“What? How?” Robin crinkled his nose, trying to feel if his mask was loose.

“I got it,” Nightwing said, adjusting Robin’s mask.

“Is everyone ready?” Batgirl asked.

“I think so,” Nightwing shrugged.

“I _don’t_ think so,” Alfred frowned. He handed Robin a spare grappling hook, adjusted the straps keeping Nightwing’s escrima sticks secure, replaced the smoke bombs in Batman’s utility belt, and gave Batgirl a once-over, before nodding at her with respect. _“Now_ I believe you’re ready.”

“Can I drive tonight?” Robin asked. “I’ve been practicing, and I—“

“My car. I drive,” Batman said simply.

“Not if I get there first!” Robin laughed, and leapt towards the Bat-mobile, only to be stopped in his tracks by Nightwing holding him back by the scruff of his cape.

“Buddy, if _anyone_ gets to drive that thing…it’s going to be me!” Nightwing and Robin raced for the car, laughing and pushing each other out of the way.

“I’m…going to take my motorcycle,” Batgirl said.

“Fair enough,” Batman sighed. “We’ll meet you there.”

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Gotham’s Seawater Reclamation Center was a recent addition to the city, built right on the harbor near a bridge with heavy traffic flow to demonstrate to everyone that Gotham was invested in the safety and health of its citizens. It was so new, this was the first time it was being used as a base by villains. The Bat-family and “Team Poison Ivy” met up a block or two away to divide into teams.

“Poison Ivy, take Batgirl instead,” Batman said. “Nightwing, you’ll be the floater—your acrobatics might give you the edge we need to get a message from one team to the other before it’s too late. Other than that, everyone else stay with your team: Poison Ivy and Batgirl in the front, Robin and Harley Quinn with me around back. Does everyone understand the plan?” There was head nodding around the huddle. “Great,” Batman said. “Ivy, you go as soon as we break. My team waits for your signal. Red Hood…um, stick with Poison Ivy’s team, do your best to help out.”

“Sure,” Jason said, gritting his teeth. He’d help out, all right. He could be useful. He’d prove it.

“Go,” Batman said, and he vanished into the dark. Robin took Harley’s hand and led her away. She waved, and then they disappeared too.

“Um, with me, everyone else,” Ivy said awkwardly. She led them to the front of the building, and knelt to the ground, palms pressing into the dirt. Jason, Nightwing, and Batgirl formed a protective circle around her, keeping an eye out until the Ghosts started to grow.

Ivy grunted, and with the rustling, popping sound Jason now recognized, Ghosts began to tear through dirt and concrete, ripping up the ground to make space for themselves. “This is _much_ harder at night,” Ivy groaned. She focused even harder, and the Ghosts began to take the shape of a wall, twining together as they grew, tall and thick.

“I’ll give the signal,” Nightwing said, and he promptly vaulted away before Jason even got the chance to talk to him.

“I’ll take the left, you take the right?” Batgirl turned to Jason.

“ _I’ll_ take the left,” Jason said. He pulled his crowbar free from his belt and gave it a practice swing. Batgirl nodded at him, and drew out her Batarangs.

Jason squeezed past the wall, onto the side where the reclamation center stood. The Ghost flowers were already starting to tower over his head, but he used the crowbar to slice one down, catching it in both hands. He looked around and saw a gutter that Ivy’s flowers hadn’t managed to fill. He stomped his flower into it, plugging it up. He looked over at Batgirl, who was carrying an armful of flowers as she climbed down a manhole cover. She waved, and then disappeared from view, leaving Jason alone with the green wall and the reclamation center.

Jason had to step on some of the leaves to reach his next few flowers, and he cut down three at once. New buds already started to sprout as he jumped back down. He looked for another spot where he could fortify the wall. There was another gutter creating an empty patch in in wall, but it was too high up to reach. Jason followed it with his eyes back to where it started on the building itself. He could probably climb up there. Jason held the flowers closer to him and headed for the building.

It was weirdly quiet, alone in this space between Ivy’s wall and the reclamation center. Nightwing never came back, and Batgirl was shoving flowers in the sewer system somewhere, leaving Jason completely alone. He listened at the door of the reclamation center. He could hear faint sounds, people shouting and fighting. He tried the handle, just to see if the door was locked, and it wasn’t. Jason tied a few flowers around it, and it seemed to hold. The last thing he needed was someone busting out and attacking him. It was a little bit of work navigating up to the roof, but once he was there, he could see a few gutters and pipes to clog up, and he got to work.

It was quiet up on the roof, too. Eerily quiet. The sounds from inside had faded away to nothing, it was like Jason was out here all alone. He shoved some flowers into a pipe and considered this. Ivy was right behind that green wall of plants, so it wasn’t _really_ like he was alone. If she was still there.

But she wouldn’t have left, this mission was important. Jason shook his head and wished he’d gotten more sleep the night before. Ivy wouldn’t have abandoned him to deal with the Joker all by himself. But technically, he wasn’t by himself, because the Bat-family was there too, so even if she _had_ left, it wasn’t like he was in much danger.

Or maybe, that was exactly her plan. She set up the wall and left, and after the mission, the Bats would swoop in and kidnap Jason, and she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about turning him over. Maybe that was the plan all along, that she would just leave the mission early and Batman would pick Jason up when they were done. Jason felt like an idiot, he should have gone to the meeting at the Batcave, then he wouldn’t known for certain that they weren’t planning anything like that. But maybe he’d been right, and that _was_ just a ploy to trap Jason in the Batcave, and this was just a backup plan. There was no Joker plot, there was no chemical spill. This was _all_ a trap, a trap designed to catch Jason. He looked at the flowers in his hands and felt like an idiot. Why had he fallen for any of this? He needed to get off the roof and escape, without anyone noticing.

Jason snuck towards the back of the roof, on the harbor side. He peered over the edge, where there was a Bat-boat of some kind floating in the water nearby. Maybe he could slip down there, lock the door, and lock Batman inside. Then he could get away. He might even steal the Bat-boat thing. No, it was probably full of sensors and tracking devices or something. But locking the back door was still a good move. Jason swung down the side of the building as quietly as he could, before he realized he’d forgotten the flowers (the closest thing he had to rope) on the roof. Before he could go back for them, the world suddenly got louder. Jason could hear shooting from the front of the building, and he thought he heard gunfire, too. The flower rope on the front door must not have held. Which meant there was nobody defending Ivy from an attack by Joker thugs, assuming she was still there. Jason had completely thrown away the plan on the basis of a sleep-deprived daydream. He cursed and ran back around the side of the building.

He rounded the corner and a concussive blast hit him right in the face, shoving him backwards. When he got back to his feet, Ivy’s green wall was demolished, and even burning in a few places. Ivy was unconscious, and two Joker thugs were carrying her down the same manhole cover that Batgirl had used. Jason steeled himself. He was going to have to go in there, possibly getting himself killed. He gripped his crowbar tightly in two hands, squeezed his eyes shut to block out the thoughts still insisting “you’re going to die for Ivy and she doesn’t even care about you anyway,” and screamed, charging at the manhole cover. Halfway there, a wall of darkness appeared from nowhere into his path, and Jason skidded right into it.

“Ouch,” Jason rubbed his shoulder. He looked up at Batman, towering over him like a tall, dark, nightmare. Batman reached out his hand and Jason’s brain _screamed_ “get away, get away,” and he was flooded with images of Batman reaching down to him in an alley… Jason flinched away, and only a few seconds later did he realize Batman was trying to help him up. Jason tentatively reached out his hand, and Batman grabbed it, pulling him up and almost ripping his arm out of the socket.

“Red Hood,” Batman nodded. “Good.”

“What?” Jason coughed.

“Poison Ivy and Nightwing are down. By now, they’re likely not the only ones.” Batman narrowed his eyes. “We’re the only backup we can count on right now.”

“What? That’s not good,” Jason winced awkwardly. “What are you going to do?”

“What are _we_ going to do,” Batman corrected. “You’ll watch my back as I finish deactivating Joker’s chemical weapons. Then we’re going into the sewers to rescue anyone we can find.”

“Maybe I won’t,” Jason said, angrily. “We need to try and rescue them _now,_ who knows _what_ could be happening to them?”

“…the chemical weapon is our priority,” Batman said, after a pause. “Our first duty is to the city, not to individuals.”

“Well, _my_ duty is to the people who look out for me,” Jason crossed his arms. “Are you gonna get out of my way, or…” Jason started out feeling confident, but he gradually trailed off as Batman stared him down. “Um. Well,” Jason finished awkwardly.

There was another long pause as Batman continued to stare at him. “I need you to watch my back,” Batman repeated it, like it was obvious.

Jason realized what was going on. “You didn’t calculate a ‘cooperation percentage whatever’ for me, and now you’re stuck without a plan,” Jason frowned.

“I always have a plan,” Batman said, in that intimidating deep Batman voice.

“No, you _don’t,_ ” Jason insisted. “You’re down to relying on _me_ , this can’t have been part of the plan.”

“It wasn’t,” Batman admitted. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I need backup or the whole city could be uninhabitable in minutes. You—“

“Wait,” Jason said. “You _really_ don’t know who I am? Be honest. You’re the _world’s greatest detective._ You’re telling me, you expect me to believe you _really don’t know who I am?_ ”

“I respect the mask,” Batman frowned. “You’re obviously young, and down on your luck, and I was once young and down on my luck too. You want your identity to be secret, and I hope that you’ll _use_ that secrecy to turn your life around without a black mark on your record. No, I don’t know who you are.”

“Really? You’re _lecturing_ me right now?” Jason wanted to scream at him.

“Are you helping me, or not?” Batman glared. “If you’re not, stop wasting my time.”

Jason bit his lip. He couldn’t go after Ivy on his own, not unless he wanted to get killed again. “Fine. I’m with you.”

“Then keep up,” Batman snarled, and with a _whoosh_ they were running back into the reclamation center.

It was a wreck, a mess of both Bat-destruction and Joker redecorations. There were Joker thugs unconscious all over the place, and a giant jagged hole in the floor leading down into the sewer system. The whole room looked like Harley had smashed it with a hammer. It must have been some fight, Jason winced.

“This way,” Batman pointed to a control panel raised up from the floor. Jason followed, and watched Batman plug a little wire from his glove into the electronics. Batman’s hands flew over the controls as he worked.

“Um, what do I do?” Jason asked.

“Watch the hole in the floor,” Batman said, not looking up at him. “Tell me if anyone comes out of it.”

“Right,” Jason said. He peered into the hole. There were sounds from deep within the were system, and an eerie laugh that he recognized all too well. He could hear yelling, and it sounded like it was getting closer. “Um, Batman?”

“There,” Batman slammed a fist on the open panel and it closed up. The little plug retracted back into the glove. “Hood, over here.”

“We’re about to have company, I think,” Jason said. He ran over to the control panel.

“Don’t worry,” Batman said. “I’ve rigged it to destroy its own dispersal system. I can fight whoever’s coming, if you stay here and press the red button on my signal.”

“Got it,” Jason said. He looked down at the controls. Through the helmet, everything looked red. “Um, which one…?”

“This one,” Batman pointed it out, right as a few Joker thugs began to crawl out of the hole in the floor. “On my signal!”

“Got it!” Jason yelled back. He hovered his finger over the button, bit his lip, and watched Batman fight. It was so fluid, and yet so restricted. Batman didn’t waste a motion, everything he did had a purpose and landed a hit. But thugs continued to pour out of the hole in the floor, and one of them even made it past Batman. Jason crouched behind the panel, waited for just the right moment, and leapt out with the crowbar, beaning the thug right in the head.

“Get ready!” Batman yelled. “It’s almost charged!”

“Right!” Jason yelled back. He turned back to the panel, and realized he had no idea which button was which. He’d lost track of it. But Batman had said it was a blinking red button, if he just took off the helmet, he’d be able to find it.

“Almost there!” Batman yelled, cracking another thug on the jaw. “Hood! Focus!”

If he took off the helmet, he was exposing himself. Batman really didn’t know who he was, and Jason still had a chance to walk away from all this. He could still walk away from the life that literally got him killed, and Batman would never know it was him. But if he took the helmet off, and Batman saw it was him, Jason would never have a moment’s peace again. And what if his nightmares were true, and he _did_ spend the rest of his life in a secret prison in the Batcave, or what if Batman really wanted him dead, _permanently,_ this time?

But if he didn’t take off the helmet, the whole city was going to get poisoned with Joker gas. Jason looked up at Batman, who was facing the other way, still occupied with punching out thugs. Jason took a deep breath, and sighed.

“Now!” Batman yelled.

Jason removed the helmet, found the red button, and pushed it. The panel lit up in blinking colors and error messages, presumably the result of whatever Batman had done. Jason was relieved. And he’d gotten away with it, too. He put the helmet back on and turned back to the Batman, who was standing right by the hole in the floor, surrounded by unconscious thugs…and staring right at Jason. Crap.

“Jason?” Batman cocked his head.

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“Jason?” Batman repeated it. He looked confused. He was just standing there, staring.

“It’s Red Hood,” Jason grunted, trying to make his voice sound deeper than it really was. Maybe he’d still get away with it? But he probably wouldn’t.

“It’s you,” Batman said softly, the very picture of heartbreak if not for the unconscious bodies surrounding him.

“We have to rescue Ivy and anyone else who got captured,” Jason said. He looked down into the hole in the floor. “Let’s go.” Jason swung down carefully, and landed on both feet.

“How are you alive?” Batman asked, jumping down after him.

“Not important,” Jason said. “I mean—shit. I mean it’s not important. Which way did they come from?”

“How long have you been…alive?” Batman asked.

Jason listened for the eerie laughter, and followed it down one of the tunnels. “Not important. We—“

“Jason,” Batman said, and it looked like he was going in for a hug.

“ _Back off,_ ” Jason said, swinging around angrily, brandishing the crowbar. “If we have to talk about this, we can do it after everyone is safe, okay?”

“Right,” Batman nodded, and he was all business again. They ran down the tunnel together, in total silence. When they reached a doorway with light coming out of it, they pressed up against the wall. Batman turned to Jason and performed a series of hand gestures, probably trying to communicate a plan via Bat-signals or something. Jason gestured back something he hoped communicated “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and when Batman didn’t get it, Jason repeated the message with a less-polite, more-obvious hand gesture. Batman frowned. They listened at the doorway.

“It’s no _fun_ when no one’s awake,” the Joker grumbled. “My best material, _wasted!_ You may as well be corpses.”

Batman did another quick gesture, then leapt through the doorway. “If this was your best material, no wonder it failed,” Batman growled. Jason seriously considered leaving, but he wasn’t going to abandon Ivy. He took a breath, gripped his crowbar tighter, and stepped into the room behind Batman. At a quick glance, there were still a bunch of thugs left standing, and Ivy, Nightwing, and Batgirl were all unconscious and tied up against a wall.

“You’re going back to Arkham, Joker,” Batman glared. “Surrender.”

“Hey, is that a Robin back there?” Joker scowled. “He’s wearing _my_ stuff. That’s no fair!”

“Oh, I’m no Robin,” Jason glared, hefting his crowbar a little higher. “You want some of this?”

“Kill the Batman, you know the drill,” the Joker gestured to his henchmen. “Save the little one for me, I’m going to rip my old helmet off his corpse.” The thugs began to come menacingly closer.

“Back to back?” Batman offered.

“I’ll take the left, you take the right,” Jason nodded. Between the two of them, they made short work of the gang. It felt good to slam the crowbar into a few faces. Jason hoped that wasn’t a sign he was going psychotic.

“It’s over, Joker,” Batman threw the last thug to the ground. “Give it up.”

“Not so fast, Batsy,” the Joker grinned. “I’ve got one more trick up my sleeve. You’ll—“

Jason didn’t wait to hear the rest, he just launched himself at the Joker and started hitting.

“Ow, ow, hey!” the Joker whined. “No fair!”

“Fair? _Fair?!?”_ Jason screamed. If it wasn’t for Batman pulling him away, Jason might have killed the Joker right there.

“Stop it,” Batman said.

“Why should I?” Jason spat back.

“Because it’s inefficient,” Batman said. He set Jason aside, and gave the Joker a solid punch on the jaw, knocking him unconscious without knocking the smile off his face.

“Oh,” Jason said. He remembered why he’d come here. “Ivy!” He ran over to where she was laying and started untying her. She groggily sat up.

“Jason?” Ivy mumbled. “Are you okay? Were you captured too?”

“I’m rescuing you,” Jason smiled, throwing the ropes away. “I’m fine, Ivy, I promise.”

“I was so worried,” Ivy bit her lip, and pulled Jason down into a hug. He froze for just a moment, then relaxed into it, hugging her back.

Batman was right next to them, untying Nightwing. “So. Poison Ivy. You knew. That it was Jason.”

“Yes,” Ivy said. “Am I getting arrested too, because if keeping a secret identity is a crime…”

“You’re free to go,” Batman said. He helped Nightwing up and cut Batgirl free too.

“Batman,” Jason said. “I…I’m sorry. I told Ivy and Harley not to tell, and I made Batgirl promise too—“

“Barbara knew?” Batman said.

“Wha’s going on?” Nightwing blinked a few times.

Jason sighed and took off his helmet.

“Jason!” Nightwing leapt in and hugged Jason around the shoulders, and Jason let it happen. “Wait, was it really you this whole time?”

Jason looked at Batman, who was pointedly not looking at him. “Fine,” Jason said. “I didn’t tell you because I _knew_ you didn’t want me, okay? I’ll just go home with Ivy, and you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“That’s not…I don’t…” Batman was lost for words, uncomfortable and awkward. “Jason…I mean, don’t you want to come home?”

“I _am_ going home,” Jason said. He helped Ivy stand up. “With Ivy and Harley.”

“We need to talk about this,” Nightwing said. “Jay, are you okay? How are you alive?”

“Let’s just go back to the cave, guys,” Barbara said. “I’ll brief anyone who wants about what I know, let’s just…give Jason a little space, okay?”

“Thank you, Barbara,” Jason smiled tightly. He felt like he was going to collapse. “Has anyone seen Harley?”

“She’s probably with Robin up—I mean, _you’re_ Robin, right? I mean—“ Nightwing stuttered over his words.

“Never mind, we’ll find her,” Jason nearly dragged Ivy out of the room. “Bye.”

“We’ll see you soon,” Barbara smiled kindly, holding Batman back with one arm. Jason nodded gratefully at her, and then the two of them left the Bat-family behind to clean up the mess.


	6. A Few Weeks Later

“We’ve had so many Bats over, we may as well be the Batcave,” Harley rolled her eyes. “Dinner’s optional, right?”

“Dinner is mandatory, you know that,” Ivy sighed, taking the chicken out of the oven.

“That’s right,” Jason said. “You guys are my backup. Hey, can we be Team Red Hood instead of Team Poison Ivy? Because I was thinking—“

“Wait, you’re completely ignoring my Harley and the Quinns idea?” Harley frowned. “That was a good suggestion!”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Jason said. He hopped over to the front door and opened it, to the sight of a small crowd. “Alfred!” Jason hugged him around the waist.

“Lovely to see you again,” Alfred smiled.

“Come on in, everyone,” Jason held open the door and stepped back. In street clothes, Alfred, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, and a kid filed inside Ivy’s house.

“Jason,” the kid nodded.

“Replacement,” Jason nodded back.

“That’s never going to be funny,” Tim growled.

“I dunno, _I_ think it’s hilarious,” Jason said. He closed the door behind them.

“Ivy, Harley,” Alfred moved into the kitchen. “Thank you for having us over once again. I must say, it is always pleasure to take a break from providing for these heathens. If it wasn’t for me, they’d be eating frozen meals every night and never know it was a problem.”

“Hey, I don’t even live at home anymore,” Dick said.

“And I shudder to imagine the state of your pantry,” Alfred raised an eyebrow.

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Later that night, Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne stood in the sunroom, looking down over Gotham Park.

“So…you’re happy here?” Bruce coughed.

“You ask that every time you see me, and yes, I’m happy here,” Jason sighed.

“Because you always have a place at the Manor, of course,” Bruce said.

“I know,” Jason said.

“There’s no reason Red Hood can’t be a part of…you know,” Bruce said.

“The Bat-family,” Jason said. “Yeah. I know.”

“Well, okay then,” Bruce clapped his hands a few times. “Good talk.”

“Mm hmm,” Jason rolled his eyes. Bruce awkwardly left the room. Jason waited, and within a minute, Alfred joined him.

“He’s making an effort, at least,” Alfred sighed. “Again, my sincere apologies on his behalf.”

“There’s nothing _you_ gotta apologize for, Alfred,” Jason frowned.

“I’d like to believe I would have recognized you,” Alfred said.

“I know,” Jason said.

“So, what would you like to talk about this week?” Alfred asked.

“Can you tell me more about the Penguin?” Jason asked. “It’s still all fuzzy…no _way_ did he actually look like that, right?”

“Ah, Mr. Cobblepot,” Alfred laughed. “You fought him a few times, actually.”

“Tell me everything,” Jason smiled.

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Jason wandered into the greenhouse. “They’ve all left?” Ivy asked.

“Yep,” Jason said. “Dick stayed until he had to start patrol, but he’s gone too. I gotta say, I do not miss the ‘staying up all night’ part of being Robin.”

“The best part of being a rogue is keeping to your own schedule,” Ivy smiled. “Dinner was nice this week. Bruce really is learning how to talk to people about stuff other than crime or high rich-people society, it’s fascinating to watch.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Jason chuckled. “It’s still…weird. I still don’t remember everything, and it’s like…he’s still that scary Bat-guy, but he’s also kind of…a friend? Mentor? It’s weird.”

“Tell me about it, trying to watch you two small talk at dinner is ridiculous,” Ivy snorted. “Thank goodness for Dick and Barbara or we’d never have _any_ conversation.”

“Thanks for being cool with it,” Jason said. “The dinner party stuff, I mean.”

“It’s really nice,” Ivy said. “And it’s good to see you setting your own boundaries, making your own rules about how you start getting to know them again.”

“Thanks,” Jason blushed.

“Aww, Dandelion,” Ivy ruffled his hair. “You’re adorable.”

“Hey, stop it!” Jason playfully shoved her away.

“How’s it going in here?” Harley made her way into the greenhouse. “Any progress finding a toxic waste dump to give Jason superpowers?”

“No, we’re _not_ doing that,” Ivy scowled. “We’re _not.”_

“I _may_ have found a spot right outside town that looks pretty radioactive,” Jason said. “We could—“

“Absolutely not,” Ivy said. “If you really want to be my sidekick, you play by _my_ rules. And the first one is no toxic waste accidents!”

“Fine, fine, you’re no fun,” Jason grumbled happily. “The Red Hood shall remain powerless and lame.”

“Or, the Red Hood can come blow up one of the Joker’s hideouts with another powerless rogue, if he wants?” Harley said. “Say, tomorrow, maybe?”

“That sounds great!” Jason said. “By the time he gets out of Arkham, he’s gonna have nowhere to hide,” Jason smiled evilly and punched his hand.

“You’re a little bit scary, sometimes,” Harley said. “I love it!” She hugged him.

“We’ll have to go earlier in the day, I’m going to Life After the Joker with Babs tomorrow,” Jason said.

“How’s that going?” Ivy asked. “Are you doing okay?”

The memories of the Joker and his biological mom were still painful and raw, but Jason looked at his adopted family and smiled. “Yeah. I’m doing okay. I think everything’s gonna be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished! Count NaNoWriMo 2020 a complete success :)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr now! It's @occasionalstorytelling.tumblr.com. Feel free to interact with me here, there, or anywhere! You will also see a link to my Kofi in my tumblr header, if you'd be interested in supporting a 20-something living in their parent's home due to covid.


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